A कहानी of two நகரங்கள்

 “pappa, ye kya ho raha hai?”  shwetha came calling.  “Ei, evlo vaati solliruken, appa nu koopdunu.  Swathi, I have asked you a million times to teach our daughter to address us as Amma, Appa. 

“Ji, dhekho, papa bi koi bura word nahi hai, haaaaauun”

“English please, Swathi”

“Look Saru, she is your daughter too.  Don’t keep blaming me for everything.  Start taking some responsibility.  If you would have done that, she would have started addressing you as ‘appa’ now. It just means that you are not spending enough time with her” – the boomerang had to come back eventually.  Saravanan had not learnt a thing in his 10 years of marriage.    

But this is how it has been over the years for Saru.  It is half Saravanan Meenatchi on Vijay TV and half Saason ki sangam on Star Plus.  Mour Kuzhambu on one day and Mutter Paneer on the other.  Rajnikanth movie a month and Ranbir Kapoor flick the other.

Saravanan was, and is the pachaiyest among all the pachai thamizhans from Madhurai working at Infosys in Chennai.  That is where the intra national collaboration happened.  Swapna was struggling to handle the Macy’s project all by herself and as any dutiful men would do, Saru went way beyond his capacity to help her out to successfully complete the project.  Yes, Swapna was an above average hindi figure.  That makes it the moral responsibility for Saru to work over nights on behalf of her, while she connected with her friends in Lucknow. 

Fast forward 6 months, and boom – Kaadhal happened for Saru and Pyaar, ishq, mohabbat happened for Swapna.  His amma/appa and her papa/mamma also said seri/haan for the wedding. 

“Swathi, I will go get myself a Jibba.  What do you say?”  He wanted to dress up for the Luknow reception.

“What the hell is a Jibba?“ Asked poor Swathi

He had to google a pic of Hrithik Roshan wearing one in Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham

“Are, this is Kurtha.  What did you call it?  Jabbaa?”

Saru – 0 Hindi – 1.  It was just the beginning.

A marriage in two cities was daunting.  More daunting was their inability to manage the usual meet and greets with the guests.  That was the first time they felt out of place and started realizing the scope of what they were getting into starting with the travel.

While Saru had business going to Luknow now, the domestic airline had no business connecting Madurai and Luknow directly.  They had to do 3 stop overs in Chennai, Delhi, Kanpur and finally reach there.

“enna kannu, ponnu nalla mahalakshmi maari irruka.  Nee romba lucky da” – Saru’s Chitti’s greeting had Swathi kept guessing in Madurai reception. 

“Jeethe raho bache.  Aap kabhi ghar aake chai wai peeke chalna, teek hai beta?” – all Saru could do was to keep a wide smile and the 180 degree horizontal head-nod on.  Even if some one would have asked for his house and car at that time, he would have happily agreed with his nod.  

He realized at that point that he should have picked up some hindi by watching Bollywood movies.  The only hindi movie he saw was Rangeela a decade ago, but the purpose there was not to learn hindi.  Damn you distracting Urmila. 

He would keep this nod for the entire reception ceremony at his Pugungtha Veedu. 

Hello Jeeju kaisen hai aap? Swathi’s cousins introduced themselves. 

Illema, enaku joose ellam venam….Sorry, no thank you. I just had juice’u. 

Saru, I told you before. Jiju means brother-in-law.  Stop embarrassing me.  I taught you all these on our flight here.   But Saru’s Hindi ignorance was beyond a 1 hour crash course.

Over the years, when there were situations for him to travel to Luknow by himself, he would carry a piece of paper with the address written in Hindi and would show it to the driver and ask him to “idhar Javooo” pointing finger at the paper.  He would pretend reading a newspaper throughout the ride to avoid the small talk that the Luknow wala might begin.

It was worser than the Vadivelu’s idhar aavoo comedy that he used to watch all the time.  He realized that seeing a Vadivelu on screen getting humiliated was hilarious, but being a vadivelu in Luknow was humiliating, to say the least.

If this was the case with an airport Taxi driver, his experience with street vendors were exponentially worse.  He knew Ek, Dho and Theen and for anything beyond that his number systems would take a severe hit.  Forget about the kilogram weights and ‘assi rupay dhedho bhaiyaa’ types.  All he could do was to carry as many 100 and 500 rupee notes as possible and give the vendors and take back whatever change the vendors were willing to give back.  Dignity preserved!

“papa, aap kahan kho gaye ho aap?” Shwetha woke Saru up from his flashback.  Looking back, it definitely seemed funny and made for great stories down the line.  Now Shwetha bridges the language divide between parents.  A lot is also being communicated through silence after these 10 years.  Cause you know, yeh rishta hai janmo ka! 

Parul, Powai and the Purple brigade

Parul, Powai and the Purple brigade

 “I am really worried about Raghav’s behavior lately, Swapna.  He has been acting very weird for the past couple of months”.  Parul sounded worried sipping her venti mocha at her favorite Colaba Café Coffee Day.   There was a reason why a generally jolly Parul would sound that way.  Raghav stays late at work and often comes home at mid-night complaining about his recent change to the US shift.   Their 5 year old Ranshu has been missing all her Yoga and Swimming lessons in the weekday evenings, all their 7^th anniversary celebrations had been put on hold as he was working on the weekends and did not have time to go shopping at their favorite Infiniti Mall at Malad West and most of all he has been avoiding a visit to his parents at Bandhra west during the weekends.

“He is genuinely busy with work, may be?” comforted Swapna.  “I don’t know, he is not one of those work-y-work types.  He had never been this disinterested in family, since the last big fight we had and I am really worried that there is another women in his life”

“I have never seen you complaining about Raghav like this before.  We all think that you were the happiest couple that we know since you guys since you guys move here” Swapna continued after a brief pause “I am not sure if I am going overboard in suggesting you this, but this can eliminate the confusion you have and I am sure this will turn out to be a non-issue.  There is a personal detective that we engaged six months back to find out more about a potential groom for my sister’s daughter.  Do you think you want to try going that route?”

Parul felt there was no option left for her to handle this situation.  She engaged the detective to follow Raghav and was waiting on the report.  Four days later…

“Mam, I think I have some news for you.  I am not sure if you are going to be happy or sad about what I found” whispered the detective on phone.

With her heart pumping at a furious rate, Parul replied “Can you please tell me where the hell he has been going lately?  Is he cheating on me? Has be become a drug addict? Is he divorcing me? What am I going to do along with my kid? Can you open your damn mouth and tell me what is going on?” she couldn’t control her emotions

“I really have to rush to another assignment right now.  I think it is better if you could come see for yourself.  Please be at this address tomorrow at 8PM.  You will find out yourself” he hung up the phone, giving the address for her to go this Sunday.

Parul could not believe how the detective left her thoughts in the open.

8PM on Sunday, she arrives at a lake facing bungalow near Powai.  She could hear Raghav’s voice from near the door and decided to listen in before she could walk in and crash whatever that Raghav was up to.

 “Tarun, I cannot believe how much I missed this.  You have no idea what I have to go through for years”

“I am happy too my man.  But do you think it is going to work out for us” replied another concerned male voice.

“Stop being pessimistic Tarun, you have to believe in us.  We will eventually get the respect and dignity that we much deserved” Raghav’s voice replied.  Parul’s eyes began tearing up as her mind started untying all the knots about what she potentially could have found out.  Several things flashed that second.  Dostana’s John Abraham on the beach side with his undies on was one of them.  She strengthened herself up, wiped off her tears and continued to listen praying that whatever she was thinking should not be true.

“Trust me Raghav, I am trying to convince my dad every single day, but he just won’t listen to me.  He never understands or appreciates how we feel.  His thought process is completely different” said the stranger’s (now she knows is a guy named Tarun) voice.

“Forget your dad mate.  He obviously thinks he is always right.  Typical Chennai mentality.  Just because the world has seen things happen one way, it need not happen in the same format all the time.  If we are let down by our own country folks, we always have the international support backing us.  Don’t bother about his conservative view.  We will come on top.  Just wait and watch”

“I am praying that you are right.  Our journey is going to be very tough.  Look at all the road blocks lined up against us.  We just have to tackle one at a time, I guess”

Parul could not handle this anymore.  She banged the door open and screamed “Raghav…how could you do this to”

The moment she walked in, she was taken aback by all the Purple posters all over the wall.  A 10 foot Sunil Narine was starring at her with his Mohawk.  Gambhir to his left, Kallis to his right.  Sidhu was seen screaming on the 52 inch TV playing Set Max.

“Welcome to the finals of DLF IPL Season 5 – Kolkatta Knight Riders vs. Chennai Super Kings.  The match we all have been waiting for!”

“Parul!” Raghav’s eyes popped.  “What are you doing here?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one who is asking questions here?  I mean, I just cannot read what is going on? And why are you watching a freaking IPL match with a stranger?

Without knowing the intensity of the frame of her mind, Raghav casually continued “Parul, meet Tarun.  We are college buddies from University of Calcutta and we recently bumped into each other after several years”

Tarun’s father Krishnamoorthy walks out of the restroom with his Yellow jersey.  “Are you going to introduce me to your wife, Raghav?”

“Sorry uncle, Parul – he is Mr. Krishnamoorthy, Tarun’s dad.  He is a very ardent Chennai Super Kings fan”

A more confused Parul calmed her nerves and asked again “I am going to ask you one more time.  You were supposed to be at work taking care of your US clients, remember?”

“Let me explain Parul.  I am sorry that I lied to you and for not keeping up the promise I made you for not watching Cricket any more.  I swear, I stuck to that promise till the last couple of months.  You very well know how big of a cricket fan I was before our wedding, but when this sport played a spoil sport in our relationship I decided to put an end to this madness.  It struck me hard when you left me for a month because I was being an idiot spending too much time watching, discussing and playing cricket.  After I made that promise to quit watching cricket, I realized how much I have missed in our relationship. I am not making this up and you know it”

“You realized all that to come to this situation, where I had to spy on you?” Parul still needed her answers.
“I just could not help it and this is the last game of the season.  You know how much I love Kolkatta and this is the only season where they are playing some quality cricket.  I couldn’t stop watching this season after Tarun practically dragged me into a sports bar to watch one of the league games earlier this season.  After being down at the bottom of the table for so many years, I just simply could not miss this season where they have reached the playoffs and are now the final”

“So you lied to me to watch a stupid Cricket game? Wait, but you hated SRK”

“But it is not about him, it is about our Knight Riders and Kolkata cricket.  Our Knight Riders batting and bowling powers are finally coming out of the closet to redefine history by trying to beat the super kings tonight” Raghav’s eyes were glowing in excitement.

Turning to the Yellow T-Shirt on the left, Parul questioned “Uncle - and you are supporting this madness?”

“No dear, I always support Sanity.  I support the Super Kings”.  Parul realized that she was in a wrong crowd.

She looked for a wall to bang her head so hard, till she bleeds profusely.  She was angry, she was Sad.  She was happy and confused just a tad.  Happy that her husband was not cheating on her and more importantly his sexual orientation remained intact.  Sad, as he had to lie to his wife to watch a game of cricket.  Angry at herself, as she realized that she might have over restricted Raghav to not watch any sports at home, period.  She actually thought that he was genuinely happy watching “Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata hai“with her every night.  She never realized too much restriction could balloon into something this weird.  She made up her mind to forgive Raghav and also decided to go easy on the ‘No-Sports’ rule moving forward.

Raghav now watches just the play offs for every IPL, skipping all the 600-odd league matches, takes her to the Infinity mall every other week and has enrolled himself in the yoga class with his daughter. 
  

Atlanta Amarkalam!

Atlanta Amarkalam!

“Raji, did you get the mallipoo from Ganapathi Flowers?  Please do keep that in a ice Pack and Check them In.  Kaalavarathadi, please!” exclaimed Sambandhamoorthi to his sister Swarna.  The poo Maalais were delivered directly on a overnight flight from Nungambaakam to New Jersey’s Ganapathi Flower shops.  Swarna had just discovered that such a store exists and was all excited to bring the much desiered mallipoo for her Manni’s Seemandham.  Mallipoo was the highlight among the Maamis, of course.

Sambandhamoorthi had way too many things to deal for the 30+ guests that he had invited and the 20+ that showed up uninvited.  His mom and dad came from Delhi, his mamanar and mamiyar from Chennai, brother-in-law No.1 with his family from Chicago, brother-in-law No.2 from Arizona, Sister & Maaplai from New Jersey, his close friend from London on a business visit and the vaadhiyaar varadhachari from south carolina.  It was almost like a United Nations meeting organized in Atlanta

 “Sambandh, I missed the previous two episodes of Selvi.  Do you have SunTV here?” Sambandh’s amma Atlandam, err..Akilandam was worried.  Luckily for her, he had just purchased a Mega-Maga-Super Package from YuppTV and got her covered for Mangai, selvi, thaali baagyam, thirumanam, karbam and Valaikaapu serials! 

Vaadyaar Varadhachari was very adaptable.  Even his slokams were. "Gangesa Yamune seva Godhavari Saraswathi" became "Missori, Columbia river seva Hudson, Missisipi"! Ok, I made that up.  But he was very adaptable in every other aspect like not minding the buffet and sharing the guest house with the rest of the relatives.

Rangaachari’s  bakshanam (seeru murku, mysore paaku and laddu) was a delight.  Sambandam specially went on a 4 day lookout to find a vegetarian, iyer, tamil speaking, non-drinking and clean (ok, I over-did that) cook all over Atlanta and found Rangaachari around 40 miles from his home.  “You initially paid me 600 dollars, then you added 10 more people, so you totally owe me 675 dollars.  Please verify all the 10 items that you have ordered.  Be careful with the Aviyal and the Paayasam, they might spill in your car” told the cook, counting the dollars while Sambandh collected the lunch items from Rangaachari’s home/restaurant. 

“Maami, everyone was talking about the paayasam this morning, but I never had anything left for me” complained Keerthi maami.  “Who was the cook?” was the most asked question of the day.  The food was that popular and the cook Rangaachari was more popular, thanks to his Andra style Katrikaai curry in the morning and his rasmalai in the evening.  Just after that function, Rangaachar got catering orders for 2 more seemanthams, 3 Grahapravesams, 1 Aandunaraivu and 4 Satyanarayan pooja.  He planned to upgrade his small Nissan Sentra to a spacious Honda Accord after that week.  That was the impact of his food for the Seemandham.

“Mama, have you seen the Coca-Cola factory in Atlanta?  I can take you there if you want to.  I work there, so if you need free passes let me know” one of Sambanth’s friends Murali was busy chatting with his appa.  “I even brought 5 liters of Coke for the evening party, mama” he continued! 

The function went well with house filled with guests and relatives with people making plans for Atlanta aquarium while munching their Athirasam and guys trying to dodge those plans to watch the Sunday movie on Sun TV constituted some of the discussions during lunch.

“Appa, we had to go for Sambandhamoorthi’s house function tomorrow.  His parents are here, so we can invite them for your Shashtiyapthapoorthi next week” said the neighbor Sainath with excitement.  One could sense the desperation on getting hold of guests for a function in the United States.  Afterall, any of our function is never complete without playing kids (Only the Indian variety screams for some odd reason), your manni persuading her crying infant, your athai and chitti complimenting each other on their pattu podavai, that one very social athimber who lightens up the occasion, brother-in-laws discussing the housing market and their investment plans and of course friends who keep us going.  People make up the occasion, and Sai did realize that. 

Sainath had now got one mami and a mama for his function and is now on the lookout for the rest in his neighbourhood.  After all, people make up the occasions and they are always a rarity in this part of the world!  Luckily that was not the case for Sambandhamoorthy!

வாசகர் தர்மம்!

வாசகர் தர்மம்!

-அகிலா கார்த்திகேயன் (Appa's Kathai published in Dinamalar)

அன்று உற்சாகத்துடன் தான் எழுந்து கொண்டேன். வளர்மதி பதிப்பகத்தார் இன்று, என்னை வரச் சொல்லி கடிதம் போட்டிருந்தனர். அவர்கள் பதிப்பகத்தில் புத்தகமாக, என் சிறுகதைகள் வெளிவந்தால், அதை விட பெருமையில்லை. இவர்களின் அங்கீகாரம் அபூர்வமென்பதால், எக்காரணத்தைக் கொண்டும் இந்த வாய்ப்பை நழுவ விடக் கூடாதென்ற தீர்மானத்தில் இருந்தேன்.
சேலத்திலுள்ள வளர்மதி அலுவலகத்தில், 10:30 மணிக்கு இருக்க வேண்டுமென்றால், நான் இருக்கும் மேச்சேரியிலிருந்து, 8:00 மணிக்கு கிளம்பினால் தான் சரிப்படும். போகும் போது, பிள்ளையாருக்கு சதுர் தேங்காய் உடைத்து, வேண்டி கொண்டு போக வேண்டுமென நினைத்துக் கொண்டேன்.
குளிக்க தயாராகும் முன், காபிக்காக காத்திருந்த போது தான், மொபைல் போன் ஒலித்தது. இது போன்று, 6:00 மணிக்கு, காலை வேளைகளில் போன் ஒலித்தாலே, ஏதாவது அசம்பாவித செய்தியாகத்தான் இருக்கக் கூடும் என்று எதிர்பார்த்தபடி எடுத்தேன்; அப்படித்தான் அந்த செய்தி இருந்தது.
""அடடா... எப்பவாம்?'' என்று நான் பேசிவிட்டு மொபைல் போனை வைத்த போது, ""யார் இந்த காலை வேளையிலே,'' என்றபடி என் மனைவி காபியுடன் வந்து நின்றாள்.
""சங்கரன் சார் போயிட்டாராம். ஹார்ட் அட்டாக்காம். என் எழுத்துலக நண்பர், ராகவன் போன் பண்ணினார்,'' என்றேன்.
""அடப்பாவமே... ரொம்ப நல்ல மனுஷர்; அவர் வீடு ராசிபுரமாச்சே. காபி சாப்பிட்டுவிட்டு, சட்ன்னு கிளம்பி போயிட்டு வாங்க... எப்ப எடுப்பாங்களோ என்னவோ... போகும் போது வெறும் வயிறா போகாம, ஓட்டல்லே, ரெண்டு இட்லியாவது சாப்பிட்டுட்டு போங்க.''
என் மனைவி, சங்கரன் சார் விஷயத்தில் எனக்கு இயல்பாக வரவேண்டிய பரபரப்பை எதிர்பார்த்து சொல்லிக் கொண்டே போனாள்.
""ஊம்...'' என்று தயக்கமாக இழுத்தேன்.
""ஏன் தயங்கறீங்க,'' என்றாள் என்னை புரியாதவளாக.
""நல்ல மனுஷன்... வெல்விஷர்... போய்த் தான் ஆகணும். ஆனா, இன்னிக்குன்னு பார்த்து ரொம்ப நாளா காத்திருந்த வளர்மதி பதிப்பகத்தார் வரச் சொல்லி இருக்காங்களே... ஒண்ணு செய்யறேன்... இன்னிக்கு பதிப்பகம் போறதை தள்ளி போட முடியாது. இன்னும், 10 நாள் இருக்கே... நடுவிலே ஒரு நாள், நீயும் வேணும்னா வா... போய் விசாரிச்சுட்டு வந்துடலாம்,'' என்று, மென்று முழுங்கியபடி சொன்னேன்.
நான் செய்வது, அவளுக்கு ஒப்புதலாக இல்லை என்பதை, அவள் முகம் காட்டியது.
உண்மையில், என் மனைவி சொல்வது போல, பதறிட்டு ஓட வேண்டியவன் தான். சங்கரன் சார் அப்படி வேண்டப்பட்டவர். "கடவுளே... இந்த நிகழ்வு நாளைக்கு நேர்ந்திருக்கக் கூடாதா...' என்றெல்லாம் பேத்தலாக, மனம் தர்ம சங்கடத்தில் புலம்பியது.
குளித்து, டிபன் சாப்பிட்டு, வீட்டை விட்டு கிளம்பி, சேலத்திற்கு பஸ் ஏறி உட்காரும் இச்சமயம் வரை, சங்கரன் சார் விஷயத்தில் தவறு செய்கிறோமோ என்று உறுத்திக் கொண்டே தான் இருக்கிறது.
வார - மாத இதழ்களில், வாசகர் கடிதம் என்ற பகுதியை தவிர்க்காமல் படிப்பவர்களுக்கு, "அயனாவரம் சங்கரன்' என்ற பெயர் பரிச்சியமாகி இருக்கும். என் போன்ற எழுத்தாளர்களுக்கு தெரியாமலிருக்க வாய்ப்பே இல்லை. கதை, கவிதை, கட்டுரை, கார்ட்டூன் என்ற எதையும் கவனமாய் படித்து, கடிதம் எழுதுபவர் என்பது, விமர்சனம் செய்து எழுதும் அவருடைய நாலைந்து வரிகளில் தெளிவாகத் தெரியும்.
"பத்திரிகை தர்மம், படைப்பாளிகளின் தர்மம்ன்னு இருக்கிறது போல, வாசகர்களும் கடைபிடிக்க வேண்டிய தர்மம்ன்னு ஒண்ணு உண்டு. ஏதோ வெறுமனே படிச்சோம்... உள்ளுக்குள்ளே ரசிச்சோம்ன்னு இருக்கக் கூடாது. அதைப்பத்தி, நாலு வரி எழுதிப் போட்டு, அது வெளியாகி, அதை அந்த கதாசிரியரோ, கவிஞரோ படிக்கும் போது, அந்த வரிகள் எத்தனை சந்தோஷத்தைத் தரும்ன்னு அவங்களுக்குத்தான் தெரியும். அது, அவங்களுக்கு ஒரு உற்சாக டானிக் மாதிரி. மேலும் மேலும் எழுதணும்ன்னு தூண்டும். அந்த வகையிலே இப்படிப்பட்ட வாசகர் கடிதம் எழுதறது கூட, ஒரு இலக்கிய சேவைன்னு சொல்லலாமில்லையா!'
ஒரு நூல் வெளியீட்டு விழாவிற்கு போயிருந்த போது, நண்பர் ராகவன், எனக்கு சங்கரன் சாரை அறிமுகப்படுத்திய தருணத்தில், "வாசகர் தர்மம்' என்ற இந்த புது விளக்கத்தை, சங்கரன் சாரிடமிருந்து கேட்க நேர்ந்தது. இது, எத்தனை உண்மை என்பது எழுத்தாளர்கள் அனுபவத்தில் உணர்ந்திருப்பர். ஒரு படைப்பு வெளியாவதில், அவர்களுக்கு ஏற்படும் சந்தோஷத்திற்கு நிகரான மகிழ்ச்சியை, அடுத்த இதழ்களில் வாசக அன்பர்களின் கடிதங்களும் உண்டாக்குவது உண்மை தான்.
எடுத்த எடுப்பிலேயே, சங்கரன் சாரை எனக்கு பிடித்து போனதற்கு, இன்னொரு காரணமும் இருந்தது. என்னை ராகவன் அறிமுகப்படுத்திய உடனேயே, சங்கரன் சார், என்னைப் பற்றி அறிந்தவராக பேச ஆரம்பித்ததை நான் எதிர்பார்க்கவில்லை தான்.
"ஓகோ... சந்திரமோகன்கறது நீங்கதானா? உங்க கதையெல்லாம் படிச்சிருக்கேன். நாலைஞ்சு கதைக்கு வாசகர் கடிதமும் எழுதி, வெளியாகி இருக்கே' என்று கூறி, வியப்பில் ஆழ்த்தியவர். "பிப்ரவரி மாத, "தாழம் பூ' இதழ்லே உங்களோட, "தர்ம தரிசனம்' கதையிலே, கல்யாண ரிசப்ஷன் பத்தி, ரொம்ப ஜோரா விவரித்து எழுதியிருந்தீங்க...' என்று, ஒரேயடியாக அசர வைத்தார்.
இதுவரை, என்னை இப்படி யாரும் சட்டென்று அடையாளம் கண்டு கொண்டதாக காட்டியதை நான் அறியாததாலும், இப்படி, ஆயிரத்தில் ஒரு எழுத்தாளரான என் படைப்புகளையும் நுணுக்கமாக விமர்சிக்கும் அதிசயத்தாலும், சங்கரன் சார் என் இனிமையான நண்பராகி போனார்.
பார்க்கச் செக்கச் செவேலென்று, பூர்ணம் விஸ்வநாதன் சாயலில் இருப்பார். உள்துறை செயலகத்தில் உயர் பதவியிலிருந்து ஓய்வு பெற்ற பின், சென்னை அயனாவரத்திலிருந்து, ராசிபுரம் குடிவந்து, ஐந்து வருடங்களாகின்றன. இருந்தாலும், "அயனாவரம் சங்கரன்' என்ற பெயரில், வாசக கடிதங்கள் தொடர்ந்தன.
மூத்த பையனுக்கு சென்னையில் வேலை. பெண்ணை, சேலம் ஆடிட்டர் ரவிக்கு கொடுத்துள்ளார். மாப்பிள்ளை ரவியின் ஆன்மிக ஈடுபாட்டுக்கு ஒத்தாசையாக இருக்க, தன் இரண்டாவது மகன், ரமணனோடு சென்னையிலிருந்து தன் சொந்த ஊரான ராசிபுரம் வந்து விட்டார். ரெண்டு, மூன்று முறை அவருடைய ராசிபுரம் வீட்டிற்கு போயிருக்கிறேன். அவர் மனைவி செய்யும் நெய் தோசைக்கு நான் ரசிகன் என்ற அளவில், சங்கரன் குடும்பத்தோடு எனக்கு பரிச்சியம் இருந்தது.
தன் தள்ளாத வயதில், ஒரே ஒருமுறை என் வீட்டிற்கு வந்த சம்பவம் தான் இதில் குறிப்பிடத்தக்கது. என் கதை, "வாரமலர் சிறுகதை' போட்டியில், இரண்டாம் பரிசு பெற்று வெளியான சமயம். என் புகைப்படத்தையும் போட்டு, ஒரு குறிப்பும் கண்டிருந்தது. பலராலும் படிக்கப்படும் வார இதழாக இருந்தும், சுற்று வட்டாரத்தில், என் கதையையும், என் போட்டோவையும் பார்த்து, ஒரு ஆசாமி கூட பாராட்டவோ, விசாரிக்கவோ இல்லை. எனக்கு அதில் ஏமாற்றமும், ஏக்கமும் இருந்தது.
அந்த சமயத்தில், ஐப்பசி மாத அடை மழையில், சங்கரன், ஒரு நாள் மாலை, ஆட்டோவில் தன் மகன் ரமணனுடன் வந்திறங்கினார். மேச்சேரி வரை இந்த கொட்டும் மழையில், எப்படி வந்தாரோ என்றிருந்தது. கையில் கொண்டு வந்த ஸ்வீட் பாக்கெட்டை கொடுத்து, ஒரு மாலையும் போட்டார்; எனக்கு திக்குமுக்காடி போனது.
"கதை ரொம்ப ஜோர்... வாழ்த்துக்கள்...' என்று, வாய் நிறைய பாராட்டினார்.
"நேரிலே போய்தான் வாழ்த்து சொல்லணும்ன்னு ஒரு வாரமா அப்பா துடிச்சிட்டே இருந்தார். இன்னிக்கு மேட்டூர்ல ஒரு பங்ஷன். அதனாலே வீட்டுக்கு வர முடிஞ்சது...' என்று ரமணன் சொன்ன போது, என்னுடன் சேர்ந்து என் மனைவியும், பெரியவரின் பண்பால் நெகிழ்ந்து போனாள்.
ஒரு படைப்பாளியின் எதிர்பார்ப்பை பூரணமாய் உணர்ந்த, ஒரு உயர்ந்த வாசகராய், அந்த பெரியவரை பார்த்தேன்.
சங்கரன் சாரைப் பற்றி அசை போட்டதில், இப்பேற்பட்ட பண்பாளரின் இறுதிச் சடங்கிற்கு போய், மரியாதை கூட செய்ய துடிக்காமல், வேறு எதற்கோ போய் கொண்டிருக்கிறோமே என்ற உறுத்தல் தீவிரமாகிப் போனது.
குழப்பமான மனநிலையோடு தான், வளர்மதி நிலையம் சென்று, சீப் எடிட்டருக்காக காத்திருந்தேன்.
அரை மணி நேரம் சென்றதும், ரிசப்ஷனிஸ்ட் கூப்பிட்டாள்... ""சார்... நீங்கதானே சந்திர மோகன். சாரி... இன்னிக்கு எடிட்டர் வர முடியாதாம். ஏதோ டெத்தாம்; ராசிபுரம் போயிருக்காராம். உங்களை வேற ஒரு நாள் வந்து பார்க்க சொல்லி, போன் பண்ணியிருக்கார்.''
எனக்கு சுரீர் என்றது. டெத், ராசிபுரம் என்ற விவரங்கள், அது, சங்கரன் சார் மறைவைத்தான் குறிப்பிட்டிருக்க வேண்டுமென்று நிச்சயமாகத் தெரிந்தது. இனி உறுத்தலுக்கு இடம் தராத வகையில், சங்கரன் சாரின் ஆத்மா வழிகாட்டி விட்டதாக எனக்கு தோன்றியது.
இப்போது பதறி அடித்துக் கொண்டு தான், ராசிபுரத்திற்கு பஸ்சை பிடிக்கப் பறந்தேன்; ஆனால், காலம் கடந்திருந்தது. நான் சங்கரன் சார் வீட்டை அடைந்த போது, எல்லாமே முடிந்து, வீட்டை கழுவிக் கொண்டிருந்தனர்.
"பக்கத்து கோவில்லே உற்சவம்ன்னு சீக்கிரம் எடுக்க சொல்லிட்டாங்களாம்...' யாரோ என்னைப் போல் தாமதமாக வந்தவர் சொல்லிக் கொண்டு போனது காதில் விழுந்தது.
ஈரத் தலையை துவட்டியபடி வந்த ரமணனை, எதிர்கொள்ளவே வெட்கமாயிருந்தது.
""அப்பா காரியம் முடிஞ்சுப் போச்சு சார்... உங்களுக்கு, "லேட்'டா தகவல் வந்ததோ? எல்லாரும் உங்களை எதிர்பார்த்தோம்; ஆனா, உடனே எடுக்க வேண்டியதா போச்சி. சாரி...'' என்றான்.
நான் மெல்ல தலை குனிந்தேன்.
"உங்களை எல்லாரும் எதிர்பார்த்தோம்...' என்று ரமணன் சொன்னது வித்தியாசமாகப்பட்டது. ஒரு நெருங்கிய உறவுக்காரர் விஷயத்தில் கூறப்படுவது போல், என்னிடம் ஏன் சொல்ல வேண்டும்... புரியாமல் யோசனை செய்தபடி நின்றேன். ரமணன் உள்ளே போய், ஒரு போஸ்ட் கார்டுடன் வந்தான். அதை என்னிடம் நீட்டினான். எனக்கொன்றும் புரியாமல் வாங்கிப் படித்தேன்.
ஆசிரியர் அவர்களுக்கு, சென்ற மாத, "தாரகை' இதழில், "வவ்வால் மனம்' என்ற சிறுகதையில், குமரேசனின் மன உறுத்தலை அப்படியே படம் பிடித்தாற்போல், சந்திர மோகன் எழுதிய நடை என்னை உருக்கி விட்டது. குமரேசன் என்ற கதாபாத்திரத்திடமே ஆறுதல் சொல்ல வேண்டுமென்று தோன்றுகிறது.
— அயனாவரம் சங்கரன்.
படித்ததும் நீர் முட்டியது.
""நேத்து சாயங்காலம் அப்பா இந்த வாசகர் கடிதத்தை எழுதி முடிச்சதும் தான் நெஞ்சுவலின்னு துடிச்சார். உடனே, காரை வரச் சொல்லி மருத்துவமனைக்கு கூட்டிட்டுப் போனோம். அந்த வலியோடவே, "இந்த லெட்டரை போஸ்ட் பண்ணாம இருந்துடாதே...'ன்னு போகும் போது, சொல்லிட்டே வந்தார். அப்புறம் பேச்சே இல்லே... 3:00 மணிக்கு மேல் உயிர் பிரிஞ்சு போச்சு,'' ரமணன் விவரித்த போது, அடக்க முடியாமல் என்னையும் மீறி அழுகை பீறிட்டு வந்தது.
""சாரோட ஞாபகார்த்தமா இந்த லெட்டரை போஸ்ட் பண்ணாம நானே வச்சுக்கிறேன்,'' என்று, ஈரத்தால் கலைந்திருந்த சங்கரன் சார் எழுத்தை பத்திரப்படுத்திக் கொண்டேன்.
***

அகிலா கார்த்திகேயன்

Originally published in Dinamalar on Jan 1, 2012

http://www.dinamalar.com/Supplementary_detail.asp?id=8509&ncat=2#comment

From Gandhi ji to 2G!

From Gandhi ji to 2G!

Anna Hazarre was dragged into Tihar and was shown his cell by the mighty Delhi police.

He finds a man wandering around the cell with his cell phone “Hello, Helooo….seriya kekala, I can’t hear you…bloody cell phone towers”

He threw his phone in a corner and turned back to notice that he got a new cell mate. “Hello saaar. I am Raja, you must have seen me on TV lately. Who are you and what brings you to Tihar at this age?”

“ Lokpal brought me here”, said Anna calmly.

“ Who is Lokpal? I have a friend named Dhanabaal, but never heard of Lokpal. Is he a Tamilian as well? Let me Google that on my 2G iPhone”. Raja’s phone did not work, as usual. “Why don’t you tell that yourself, Saaar. BTW, I did not get your name”

“My name is Anna. I wanted the Government to pass the Lokpal bill to implement anti-corruption law in India. This way we can keep a check on the increasing corruption index in our country. I planned to fast till the government accepts to discuss the bill, but they feared a national outrage and did not allow me to sit in the park to fast with my fellow supporters. I am surprised that you have never heard about that, Raja”

“That is a fantastic idea, Anna. Wonder why people are against that bill. So this is the law which governs all the Government officers and peunes, yes? There needs to be a check on those people collecting Rs.50 and Rs.100 for their regular work. I fully support you, Anna ji”

“Yes, it does and also includes all the way up to the Prime Minister of our country”

“What?? Noooo. You mean Manmohan ji will also be under this law? Eih Buddhe, what are you talking about? Sonia ji supersedes any law in this country”

“No, son. That is the whole point of this bill. There needs to a supreme body governing our system. We need to at least start thinking about how to fix it. I am not expecting a change in the next year or two, but it is just the beginning. Every big change starts as a small movement, and I am confident that this bill will see the light someday. When I see thousands of young men and women on the streets showing their support, it just gives me hope to continue fighting for this cause at this age. Think about how far our country can grow if we get the corruption under control to a reasonable level. Just think about it son. At your age, I started a small reform in my village and slowly it grew into a model village for our country on how to be sustainable and leads our country in environmental conservation”

“Raja….He is brainwashing you. Don’t fall for it” screamed a voice from the next cell. Raja recognized and immediately responded back, “Don’t worry Kalmadi, I got this”.

“Anna, don’t play with my mind with your Gandhian ideologies. We as a country have moved far, far away from that type of thinking. Gandhiji is so 1940 s. It is 2G in this 21^st Century! Kalmadi, I need to shift my cell. Let me be your cell mate, bro. Let’s discuss about our prospects in future cabinets”

Bhaktha Prahallathan

Bhaktha Prahallathan

“Aandava…Please make it happen this time”, prayed Prahallathan standing outside Rajeshwari temple near his Vadapalani office. His elder sister is reaching her mid 30s and the ‘society’ was doing its share to make sure that he was reminded of this fact every other day. Devi was not getting any younger, and Prahallathan Varathachari Ramanujan, or PVR as he was fondly called, was losing patience as this is not clearing his way in getting married to his long time girl friend Kamala.

For him it absolutely had to happen this year. This was almost a make or break for him. He got another chance after the unsuccessful attempt a few years before.

PVR did everything that was possible in his reach to make it happen and in fact came very close in finalizing things three years before. As the other party was living near Kasi, and wanted to meet him in a public place, he took the trip to Kasi three years before with enormous hopes. To his bad luck, Kasi was flooded with devotees right from 4 AM and they diverted all the traffic leading to that place. All he got to see was the Abishekam of the Urchavar, as he stood outside and did his Prarthana. Moolavar was far from his reach! That alliance did not materialize.

He is not going to let others keep speaking about his ‘situation’ this time. He went to multiple astrologers to find out why things are not working out after all his efforts.

‘Kaazhiyoor Narayanan’ guaranteed that he will succeed in his attempts this weekend, if he performed the ‘raaghu kaala pooja’ for Surian and Chandiran.

‘Lucky Stone Lingeshwaran’ suggested that wearing Emerald on his right index finger would bring him good charm.

‘Vaasthu Varadharajan’ had his own doubts. Since this was no laughing matter that Prahallathan was dealing with, he compulsorily told that there should be a laughing Buddha kept at the entrance of his house for his efforts to succeed.

‘Praahellaetheen’ did everything he could. Yup, he did not miss to visit ‘Numerology 7Malai’ as well. ‘Subamuhurtham Soundarapaandi’ marked 4:00 AM to 4:30 AM as the best time to go out for this particular search.

Finally, the day Prahallathan was waiting for had arrived. He was up at 3 AM, took the customary oil bath, got blessings from his parents, said not to worry to his sister and got out of the house at 4:00 AM sharp. By the time he reached the venue, there were already 100 people ahead of him. He dodged the line and got into the top 10. He finally made it!!

Prahallathan couldn’t believe it actually happened this time. It was all like a Mayajaal to him. He finally got his tickets for the first day first show for his Thalaivar’s Enthiran – The Robot!

Three years before, his attempt at getting the tickets for Sivaji – The Boss was unsuccessful and he made up for that! Now he can watch both the Paalabishekam for the Urchavar cutout and also see the Aarthi for the Moolavar, when his thalaivar appears on the screen! He cannot wait for his ‘Robo’Valli in just a week!!

For Bhaktha Prahallathan, his Thalaivar was God and the theaters in Chennai [ (AVM)Rajeshwari, Devi, Kamala, Kasi, Prarthana, Suriyan, Chandiran and Mayajaal ] were the temples that screen them!

Inspired by Appa’s vaitherichal Idea :) His work is available HERE and HERE.

Khatron Ke Kalmadi - Norman’s Fear Factor

Khatron Ke Kalmadi - Norman’s Fear Factor

“Bridge collapsed near Jawaharlal Nehru stadium…. Stray dogs found jumping on Athlete’s bed at the CWG village…CWG supervisor calls the situation un-healthy…” These were the headlines that Norman Smith, a Track Cyclist from New Zealand, could hear for the past 15 days in his local media detailing the preparations for the Common Wealth Games 2010, in Delhi. He was among the 20 member delegation who was supposed to start to Delhi in a week’s time.

Norman, who is from a suburban Auckland, was never too thrilled about his trip to India. Even though he badly needed a medal after his 4^th place finish in the previous games, he always had his concerns about the venue and the nation itself. With all the things that he was hearing, the last thing he wanted was to fall sick because of the village not meeting the cleanliness standards.

As the rest of the ‘white’ world, India just meant Taj Mahal for him, and nothing else! In his attempt to know more about the country, he started to do some research himself. Rest of the things about India didn’t please him either. He learned a bit about the culture, the people, the traffic, the weather and of course the Bollywood! Their team started watching some Bollywood movies and they couldn’t stop laughing at the drama that unveiled before them (Thank you, KJo!). Even though he awed at Aishwarya’s hawwtness, he mocked at the antics of Rajnikanth.

The situation in Delhi didn’t help either. With all the Breaking News in the Media about ‘Khatron Ke Kalmadi’ and the politics behind it, his comfort level with the venue was at its all time low.

The ‘Immigration mudhras’ at the T3 welcomed him into the country (of course, after the customary Tikka, garland and the handshake with Shera). He did not expect the airport to ooze with awesomeness. Rahman was singing ‘oh yaaro’ (the tweaked version) on every single speaker in the Airport. He always had nightmares about the traffic, thanks to YouTube. There came the surprise number 2! Two dedicated lanes for CWG traffic. He reached the CW village, a solid 25km ride, in 20 minutes. He checked in to his room with the view of Akshardham on the banks of Yamuna. The room itself was definitely not as fancy as promised, but at the same time was totally livable.

He started off with his daily practice runs and was confused/surprised by the salute that the 60 year old security guard, Tukaram, gave him for each entry and exit to his building. Even though Norman doubted Tukaram’s physical abilities to be appointed as a security guard, he admired his dedication and dutifulness in circling their building from midnight till dawn. In his mind, he seemed guarantee athlete’s security in spite of the trillion CCTVs and the Perimeter securities that have been installed. Tukaram wanted to do his job right, and Norman was fascinated with this dedication.

It was a daily practice run for Norman, and on his way back to his apartment he was surprised to see Tukaram not standing up as he usually does. Norman was curious and he tried to check out if everything was OK. The moment Norman put his hand on Tukaram, he instantly realized he could be running a fever of 104 or more. He tried to communicate with his gestures and tried to ask Tukaram to take the day off. All he could get back was a smile and a nod and eventually a salute after he tried standing up. Norman couldn’t leave him there. He took him to the local hospital and took care of the Rs.100 medicinal expenses. He was also kind enough to offer a ride to Tukaram to drop him at this place with the help from a CWG Volunteer. When the car came to a stop beside the pavement without a single building in sight. He curiously asked the volunteer as to why they stopped here, just to know that Tukaram was among the thousands of people who recently got forcefully moved from the nearby Netaji Nagar Slum – an intentional move by the game organizers wanting to remove the 'eyesore' near the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium. Tukaram and his family now live out of a tent on the pavement (temporarily) and the nonstop rains in Delhi is not helping their condition either. Norman felt so bad about how the games were indirectly responsible for Tukaram’s present state and wondered about the irony of him being the security guard for the same games village. He didn’t see Tukaram for the next 10 days.

A week into the games, this was a big day for Norman. He fought his way to the final round and if at all he had any chances to win a medal, it was at this game. He heard someone knocking on his door at 7:30 in the morning. To his surprise, Tukaram was standing outside along with one of the game volunteers. Tukaram gave him the half of a broken coconut and a bunch of flowers and applied a horizontal stripe of holy ash on his forehead. All this was very confusing to Norman and he asked about it to the volunteer. What he heard moved him. Tukaram, after knowing Norman's progress in the games, had woken up at 5, took the trip to the famous Malai Mandir and offered special poojas for Norman and prayed for his gold medal. While Norman was listening to the volunteer, Tukaram placed his hands on Norman’s head, closed his eyes and blessed him. Norman knew that that gesture was real and from the heart.

Norman is now back on a flight to Auckland. He started looking beyond clumsy Indian politics, sensationalist media, mediocre infrastructure and the other things that he has been fed with so far. He realizes that not everything can be perfect in the event as huge as the Common Wealth Games and was satisfied that India could pull off the games with no major embarrassment. What touched him most was the sincere dedication, love and affection that he got from an ‘aam aadmi’ Tukaram who just lost his home because of this games. He realized that India is not about Kalmadi’s but it is about the dutiful aam aadmis who kept the games alive and made it a success!

Norman started watching the latest Rajnikanth movie on the plane while biting his shiny gold medal from CWG 2010!