RainDrops

The south-western sky over Kakkanad was smudged lilac when Dr. Anand Menon finally peeled off his blood-flecked gloves. A Saturday that had begun with a factory fire, lurched into a bus collision and fizzled out with the usual parade of chest pains left him feeling like a dishrag wrung dry. At thirty-three he was already the unofficial lynch-pin of Lakeshore City Hospital's Emergency Department; solid, unflappable, and so often on call that his mother joked the automatic doors recognised his gait and whispered "Welcome home." He stepped out of the staff gate, stethoscope coiled in a pocket like a tired snake. The air smelled of damp tar and jackfruit leaves; bus headlights cut silver across puddles. Anand was thinking only of the reheated avial waiting in his fridge when he noticed a powder-blue Scooty stalled beneath a fizzing streetlamp. Two women were stranded there. The rider wrestled a stubborn kick-start; the pillion, legs swung to one side, waved cars around with...

When Anvitha first met Rithin, it was in the hum of fluorescent lights and the fragrance of jasmine garlands at a small temple on the outskirts of Alappuzha . Their parents spoke in excited overlaps about horoscopes and train timings; the young pair spoke scarcely at all. She stole a single curious look at him; enough to see the mild confusion behind his polite smile-then lowered her long lashes and turned the look into silence. In that instant, Rithin felt as if a cloud had crossed the sun; the world dimmed yet became mysteriously more vivid. Anvitha was unlike anyone he had seen in the cafés of Koramangala or the glassed-in meeting rooms of his software firm. Her beauty was quiet, almost secretive; A heart-shaped face, all soft angles and sudden mischief, is framed by a river of black hair that never quite behaves; some days it pours straight past her waist, some days it loops into loose waves, and often two rebellious curls slip forward to kiss her cheeks. Wide almond eyes edged w...

Long before dawn the backwaters of  Kuttanad  lie like a sheet of ink beneath a sky still deciding whether to be night or morning. On the verandah of the old Nalukettu house, its laterite walls breathing the night’s final coolness, Devassy Kurian keeps first watch with a brass lamp and an enamel mug of  chukku kaapi . The lamp-flame draws fireflies; the coffee draws memory. His grandson Adithyan will arrive before noon, the first visit home since joining an aeronautics programme in Bengaluru. The boy’s phone calls are full of jet engines and software internships, yet each end with the same Malayalam lullaby Devassy once hummed to him beside a cradle fashioned from a rice-sack and coir rope. The old man whistles the tune now, soft enough not to wake Ammachi inside, and watches the river darken into indigo, then blue. Across the water a country boat appears. Raman the ferryman stands aft, the bamboo poles a metronome against dawn. He nods; no words are needed. The villa...

(The story is set in 2025, but in the slow heart-beat of rural Kerala where the seasons still start with a sigh of rain. Adapted from the Malayalam cult classic 'Thoovanathumbikal', scripted by Padmarajan.) I. First Mist - Kuttanad, Dawn of Monsoon Long before the sun had chosen a colour for the sky, Ani Nair  unlocked Akshara Offset , the little print-shop that still smelled of his late father's linotype days. A hush lay over the paddy flats; only the oars of an early fisherman knocked the canal water into soft syllables. Then, as if God remembered to breathe, a spray-fine drizzle fell. It was the kind of rain Kuttanad calls mazha manam - you don't see it, you only feel the air getting colder and the earth giving up its perfume of wet chilli leaves and river-silt. Ani closed his eyes, soaked a moment of quiet into his lungs, and kicked his ancient Bajaj Chetak to life. The scooter coughed, grumbled, then decided to be loyal for one more day. He rode to Mariya...

Ravi was on his third cup of chai that evening, huddled by the small, open fireplace in his family’s old stone cottage. Outside, the mountain town of Manali lay still, bathed in moonlight, each street corner covered in a pristine blanket of fresh snow. He could hear the faint sounds of holiday cheer wafting up from the distant marketplace, where vendors sold roasted chestnuts, fresh apples, and handmade woollen shawls to the few tourists braving the winter chill. He hadn’t been back to Manali in nearly five years. His world now was in Delhi, where he worked as an investment analyst, living a life of constant deadlines and traffic snarls. But here, surrounded by his childhood home’s familiar smells of pinewood and burning embers, his heart felt like it could finally breathe. And tonight, he needed that peace more than ever. Ravi sighed, his breath fogging in the chill of the room as he remembered his recent breakup. He’d been with Neha for two years, a relationship filled with promises ...

       'Oh God No!!! Not me please. What did I do to deserve this? What misery!". Twenty year old Leah thought for herself. She took a small sharp edged wood splinter hidden under her louse ridden blanket and pierced her long scaly finger. Nothing came out at her first and second try, and then she tried harder. This time a tiny amount of blood oozed out of her finger. She pressed her finger harder so the blood could come out in a gush. She applied the blood in her lips and her bonny face, so it look lovely and fresh. The German soldier barked out at the inmates, "Any one here sick? Any dead bodies?". No one moved. The soldier came to everyone's sleeping barracks, looked at the haggard faces and picked up a few of them who looked particularly ill. He reached Leah's bed, glanced towards her once, and moved on to other beds. The chosen ones are marched outside the barracks, and then no one heard of them ever.       The year was 1937. The 15 year old ...

Kadhale thedi poga mudiyathu...Athu nelaikkathu...Athuva nadakkanum...Nammale pottu thaakkanum...Thala keela pottu thirupanum...Epavume kuuda irukanum... Athan true love...Athu enaku nadanthathu.. Ennai adichathu antha kadhal... Yes, I am in Love!!! Again...

A Nice song from the Malayalam movie Neelathaamara, released recently... Sweet song, isn't? :-) And guys, you know who has sung this one? Yep Shreya Ghoshal and V. Sreekumar....Shreya, u rock! Not a word seems like it's sung by a non-mallu...Kudos to you.

हर एक पल जैसे सदियों सी गुजरती हुई , तुझमे मिली हुई, मुझे मेरे जैसा बनाती हुई ... तेरे साथ बिताए लम्हों की याद हज़ारों दर्द एक साथ उमद्द्थी हुई ... विश्वास की तुम मुझे कई ज्यादा चाहती हो, जितना की में तुम्हे चाहता हूँ ... विश्वास की किसी भी पल तुम मेरे पास लौट के आओगी बस अब यही जीने की आस रह गई है.... In Malayalam, it translates to... ഓരോ നിമിഷവും യുഗങ്ങളായി തള്ളി നിക്കുന്ന നിന്നില്‍ അലിഞ്ഞു ചേര്‍ന്ന, എന്നെ ഞ്യാന്‍ ആകിയ നിന്‍റെ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ ഒരു ആയിരം വിങ്ങലായി വരുംഭോഴും ഞ്യാന്‍ നിന്നെ സ്നേഹികുനതിനെ കാല്‍ ഏറെ നീ എന്നെ സ്നേഹിക്കുന്നു എന്ന വിശ്വാസം ഏത് നിമിഷവും എന്‍റെ അടുത്ത് എത്തുമെന്ന വിശ്വാസം എന്നെ ജീവിക്കാന്‍ പ്രേരിപിക്കുന്നു ...

Splendid song from "What's Your Raashee". Harman and demi-goddess Priyanka as the Cancerian Girl... Although the movie was a super-duper flop in the box office, I liked some of the characters played by PC. This Cancerian girl (Hansa) on which the above song is based on, the college going Geminian (Kaajal) and the Virgo Girl (Pooja, the Doc) were my favorites... So, which one is your Raashee? :-)

A sensuous song by Sujatha from a Malayalam movie... Her voice mingles with the background so callously...Even after 6 years, since I heard this for the first time, it still seems new and fresh. I just love this one...

Dedicated to the rains in Bangalore; and to the "subject" in these lines... ;-) Lines from the movie Fanaa [2006, Hindi] ... .......................................................................................................... Yeh Saazish Hai Boondo Ki, Koi Khwahish Hai Chup Chup Si Dekho Na... Hawa Kuch Hole Hole, Zubaan Se Kya Kuch Bole Kyun Doori Hai Ab Darmiyaan Dekho Na... Phir Na Hawaayein Hongi Itni Besharam Phir Na Dag Mag Dag Mag Honge Yeh Kadam Saawan Yeh Seeda Nahin Koofiya Bada Kuch To Baraste Hue Keh Raha Samjo Na... Hawa Kuch Hole Hole, Zubaan Se Kya Kuch Bole Kyun Doori Hai Ab Darmiya Dekho Na... Jugnu Jaisi Chaahat Dekho Jale Mujhe Meethi Si Mushkil Hai Koi Kya Karen Hoton Ki Arzi Aisi Tukhrao Na Saanson Ki Marzi Ko Jutlao Na Chulo Na... Hawa Kuch Hole Hole, Zubaan Se Kya Kuch Bole Na Doori Hai Ab Darmiya Dekho Na...

A good scene from the Telugu movie Bommarillu. A scene in which the protagonist wanted to have Ice cream in the dead of the night...Notice how she offers a lift to Siddu (Siddharth) back home at the end... :-)

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair... I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare... I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind... I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme... I hate the way you are always right, I hate it when you lie... I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry... I hate it when you are not around, and the fact that you didn't call... But most of all I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a li'l bit, not even at all...

A Romantic song from Telugu movie Bommarillu (aka The Toy House). The Song has the voice trademark of Sreenivas ("Jeans") and Gopika Poornima; Has marvelous orchestration, especially the Instrumentation chorus and Flute. Check it out... And of course Siddu and Hasini (Sidharth and Genelia) rocks !!!

Will You marry me ? God proposing the goddess; AB proposing PC ... ;-)

Another day passing by from my life. Heard all the songs of Delhi-6. As expected, superb music by Rahman. Masakali, "Yeh Delhi hai" and the Aarti "Tumhare bhavan mein" are simply rocking. Requesting you people to buy the Original music CD from stores. Listen to your conscience and support musicians. Music has a special place in my life...I love percussion. Have you seen Sivamani on stage percussing? He is really amazing. I wish i could some time perform with him... Good music besides soothing my nerves, is the first means through which I would have lost my bachelor ship :-) (Remember, I told I will tell sometimes about this?) So I was in Class XII (that's 13 years ago!) when the love bug first had bitten me. I still remember, I was in my Biology labs, and there came Miss A. She joined in Class XII from another school in Jaipur. And then the problems happened...I lost sleep, scaringly lost interest in studies for some weeks (I was in XII and public exams were nea...