Kaadhal

Rahul could not sleep a wink the whole night. And understandably too, It was not everyday that one decided to propose his love to his secret love of over two years. He knew that if he witheld his feelings for Pooja any longer,he was bound to lose her..to one of the many suitors whom her family were starting to look out for her. But how was he going to meet her alone,he wondered as he twisted and turned listlessly,staring at the moon.

It was pure cinematic cliches..written all over his love story.

He had not known world outside of the mechanic shed,where he had lived ever since he could recall,and the adjoining streets where he roamed without a care in the world with his small gang of trust-worthy friends. Being the youngest in the mechanic shop,he also bore the brunt of their mood-swings..which meant that while on a good day,he could get to eat spicy chicken biryani and drink Pepsi..on a bad day,he would have a sore all over his body from the numerous kicks inflicted..But he took it all in his stride,and this made him more mature a male than he could ever have dreamt of being...and then,Pooja walked into his life..

Pooja...true to her north indian name,was the cynosure of the entire street from the day the Maarwaari family arrived there. In the two years that ensued,she had stolen the hearts of all the people living there,her pretty face and sashayin figure captivating all those who so much as even glanced upon her,throwin them into a trance for ever.

And poor Rahul was no exception,he had often wondered why the mechanic-shop owner,who was his guardian,care-taker and a father-like figure to him,had chosen to name him with such an unconventional name..now,he knew..if his love story was destined to be along the lines of any bollywood blockbuster...what else could the hero be called,eh ???

His friends tried to talk some sense into him...
"don't kid yourself,,its all the Owner's fault..he lets you watch all the stupid romantic movies with him and you start day-dreamin.."

But he was beyond reasoning. He could feel that they were destined for each other. Though she rarely came out of the bungalow,and even if she did,it was usually in their car..he had stood outside the high-walls many days..just to listen to her sweet voice from within. He spoke to those voices in soltitude,and even sang to it at times. His favorite was the kanmani abnodu from Guna..and his heart would nearly explode when he tried to mimic Kamal's Manidhar Unardhu kolla Idhu Manidha Kaadhal allaa...

And then out of the blue,the D-moment came,his stomach felt like a garbed bundle of knots,his mouth felt suddenly dry all over,and for a moment,he felt like running away from the scene. But he knew that it was not every day that Pooja came out alone,much less to the tea-stall near the mechanic shed...and stand there for a moment..staring at him...

He knew..this was it..now..or never...striding up to her,he tried to remember all those lines he had recited to her a million times in his dreams..yet as he looked her in the eyes...all that came out from his mouth were

"Arf! Arf! Arf! Bowwooowwwoooo!!!"

Kaliyugam..

Somehow he felt,today was the day. The secretive glances had progressed to not-so-secretive gapings;and then small smiles originated. These were even noticed by his good trusted friend,who by some quirk of fate was with him almost everytime these glances took place.
She always used to tease him about this - "Ask her out,you dumbo..What else do you want her to do..hold up a placard that says SHE LIKES YOU..you are such a wuss. If I were in your place..".
This was his cue to cut in and chime in with his brilliance.."Yeah rite,a desi-girl and a blond bomb-shell..your family will be sooo pleased"..which inevitably ended with her thumping him on the head with a book.
Her taunts not withstanding,he was aware of the chemistry in the air b'ween him n the blonde..She was the eye-candy of the entire floor..Suddenly managers found it absolutely essential to have 45 coffees every day,almost each one of the 45 walks to the kitchen halting over at her desk,asking her every imaginable question from whether she was comfortable, was their tie attractive, or whether she felt that the ousting of the Ugandan President was a politically unmotivated capitalistic venture..
Yet,she thwarted them all with an air of dignity,he felt truly flattered. The few times she had tried to come up to his cube,their conversation was mostly office-banter;but they both were aware of the heat..jus waitin for the opportune moment..
And then at the end of the day..it happened..
He bumped into her outside the office.....and surprisingly,she decided to make the first move..
"Hii,I have always been meaning to talk to you.."
"Ohh,I see..what is it about ?..is it some office-stuff ?..or are you havin any trouble with your computer ?..i know last week,even my comp.."
"No No,its not that..I,uh,well,I wanted to talk to you about something personal"
"Ohh,well..now is a good time..wats up ?.."..His stomach started doing little butterflies..he had envisioned this scene in a hundred hindi-movies..only now,it was a cross-over movie..
"Well,I have always liked people like you,you know..You,,you are smart,intelligent,very motivated..but is it true that most Indians are still very orthodox..you know,when it comes to dating..meeting other people..Is it true that they prefer Indians ?"
Her frankness threw him off-guard,but he recovered smoothly "NOOOOO!!!,oh my god nooo,what can i say ?..I think,thanks to the movies here, the Westeners still have a weird and primitive perception of Indians..in their eyes,we are still seen as snake-charmers,who sit and pray in front of the Taj Mahal,when the americans go off in a space-craft to save the world...But no,comin back to your question,Indians today are more open-minded than their ancestors,infact even my father's brother-in-laws second cousin married an american,and they are happy together..I know that my answer is not a perfect generalization,but times are changing,and so are people's perceptions..So the final answer to your question would be..NO,we are more than willing to meet other people"..The butterfly flight was more rapid than normal now..
"But that girl,I see her in your cube most times..are you two like see...."
"Nooooo",he cut her off mid-sentence,,"Shez just a friend,infact even shez as open as I am..she would not mind going out wit an american too,maybe if you knew some guy for"..
"Great!!!"she said,it was her turn to cut him off. She pulled out a piece of stick-it note and scribbled her name and number on it and handed it over to him sayin..."Could you please give this to your friend and ask her to call me,i think shez really cute..."



DAMAAAAAAAAALLLL...America-la yenga irukku vedikkum transformer ?????

The Dhobi's Itch




Murugesan was in a exuberant mood today. He could not keep his mind focussed on his work which was washing,drying and pressing clothes,and he prided himself on being the best that Vannerapet had to offer. This was not entirely untrue,since he had been in the business since 15,which would make him a 10-year old veteran in the tricks of the trade. But the cause for his joy was that this evening,his soon-to-be wife Parvathi was baby-sitting her Veetukaarama's kids while her Veetukaaramma and Aiyya went to a business party. This meant that after the two overly-spoilt,and overly obese kids went to bed,they had the whole house to themselves. This to Murugesan,meant a whole world of opportunities. He would have his fiancee all alone to himself in a big house,not like the Vannerapetai Kuppam where each nite was spent under the stars,and in the company of several other dhobis. He envisoned several dreams all of which more or less had the same conclusion,a very satisfying fulfilment of his deepest darkest desire.
And thus,when the joyous moment came;he promptly arrived at the back doors of the Mehtas;his lovely Parvathi welcomed him inside with a cheerful smile,her black kaajaled-eyes and red-sticker pottu perfectly contrasting her turmeric-plastered face. No sooner had the door been shut and secured,did Murugesan get about his task.

"adeyiey,ennaikkum illama inniku romba thookala irukkey di..enna edachum sokku podi podriyaa enna enakku..."
"chee,poyaa..eppa paarum unakku idhe velai; indha paaru,istam pola aada idhu onnum on voodu illa,naan vela seiyra edam,edanachum thappu aachu,en maaname poodum..adhunaala kai,kaal matha ellathayum mooditu gammunu iru enna"
"enna di,ippdi sollite;enna dhan irundhalum naan unaya katika poravan. en aasaya thrupthi padutha vendiyadhu unnoda kadamai illaya."
Saying so,Murugesan advanced towards her,making her retreat her to the far end of the kitchen. His left hand slithered into the vannaan mootai he had,while un-noticable to Parvathi,his right hand started unbuttoning his shirt.
"yovv,venaam yaa..sonna kealu..idhellam inga senja en velaye poodum..venaam yaa..vittudu..apporama innoru naalu paathukalaam"
Her pleas fell on dead ears,Murugesan was no longer a sane man,his mind completely obsessed with his desire,he advanced menacingly towards her,his eyes shining in devilish anticipation and heart beating in feverish excitement.
"haa haa haa,iniyum enna kattupadutha mudiyaadhu,maruvaadhaya samaadhaanama poodu,illati unakkum kastham,enakkum kastham" His Shirt came off,and then his lungi,he was in front of her now in his chudarmani under-garments...and poor Parvathi,with no way out or nowhere to run,had to sadly give in to his wishes..
She gave up resistance,and let him have his way..His deepest desire was just beginning to be realized...when suddenly...
BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
The sound of the transformer bursting out must have shocked the entire colony waking them all from a blissful sleep,and plunging the entire area into darkness. Only Parvathi found it uncontrollably funny,as she cried out in the dark between tears of laughter..
"Poyaa po,,ippo poi kaatikitu aluvu indha washing machinea...appdi ennadhaan arippo,vaananukku; washing machine-la thovacha thunee thaan venumo..paaru,aandavanae unakku aapu vechitaan".
The moon-light simmering into the kitchen of the Mehtas was just bright enough to illuminate a totally flustered Murugesan who had his dirty clothes in one hand and a Surf Excel Ultra Packet in the other,gaping helplessly at the Whirlpool machine in front of him.

Patience Parasuram,its never too late..

Ever since he could remember,which was for ever;Parasuram wanted to be a writer. It did not matter to him that his stories,which he so diligently conjured and documented in neatly margined unruled sheets of paper pilfered from the State Government office where he worked as an accountant; came back mostly unopened or without even a letter of rejection. To him,one day would come when the likes of Anandha Vikatan and Kumudham would compete fiercly with each other to publish his next story. And so,he imagined and prayed before mailing off his stories each time.

His wife would constantly nag him about this - she hated being a Mrs.Nobody; she cursed the mediocore unsubstantial life that they led,she prodded him to work harder,take up exams and become an Officer,so that all the other Agrahaaram maamis could do what she hoped they would - anguish in envy over the Parasurams' good fortune. But Parasuram never was one to care for materialistic comforts. His ambition in life was to be recognized for his creative skills,for his imaginative prowess and above all,for being a persistent dream-chaser who does not succumb to meagre practicalities of life.
But luck was about to change for Parasuram. He had just mailed in what he perceived to be his master-piece so far. The story was more like his autobiography - a middle-class bespectacled thayir-saadham/aavaka oorgai consuming Agrahaaram Iyengar account who wins a lottery for ten thousand rupees ( a huge amount in those days ) and how his life changes over-nite. In a way,it was a literary orgasm for him - he had acheived in that short story what his immediate world wanted him to acheive and what he secretly coveted as well.
His spirits were high as he started walking back home,he knew that this was it, this story would surely get published and soon more would follow..he no longer would have to fear the loathing words of his upper-middle-class bespectacled thayir-saadham/aavaka oorgai consuming Agrahaaram Iyengar Manager,and he could resign his accountant job and take up writing full-time,he perceived himself as the new R.K.Narayanan..the awards would flow - Thamizh Naatu Thangamagan, Messiah of Mylap.........
HONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.......
SCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHHHH......
THUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD........
The Mylapore junction in one instant turned into Meesarpet..Flies and crows swivelled the air like someone had wound them so tight like a spring and suddenly let them go loose..the Pallavan driver tried to flee the scene..only to be brutally beaten up by the normally passive Agraharam mob...babies started to cry and ladies either swooned or started to throw up...and somewhere in the not-so-near distance;the sounds of the Kabaleeshwarar temple bell signalling the evening abishegam were heard amidst the discordant cacophony of the approaching ambulance..
Ten days later,a letter arrived at the Parasurams - the house which was filled with Vaadhiyars,Homa-pogai,mamis and young kids - who not knowing where Parasuram mama had suddenly gone to;but were nonetheless happy to get a day off from school.
Mrs.Parsuram opened it and burst out crying. It took three more maamis and a small dose of a sedative injection to finally calm and numb her. One curious mama picked up the tear-splattered crumpled piece of paper which bore the official insignia of Anandha Vikatan and said....

Dear Mr.Parasuram,
We are very thankful to you for sending in your story for our consideration. Unfortunately, we are unable to publish it at the moment. But please do not take this as a complete rejection,keep sending in more stories that might be published at a later time. Please be patient,it is never too late.

Thanks,