On love and life.

Having grown in a broken home (as in always getting caught in the cross fire of two ever fighting parents) I always wondered (to the point of having no expectations whatsoever from a married partner) may be this is how it should be - we aren’t meant to be happy and peaceful. Just the way they keep repeating in several holy books - we are all sinners. We do not have the right to smile!

Being used to the heavily dominating ‘defense personal’ dad, it took years for both my brother and me to adjust and get ‘normalized’ in the society. And more importantly, take our own decisions - in matters that concern our life or career, especially life. It took me long years’ wisdom – that probably came with age or having faced death first-hand or both – to start loving life.

In 2008, just before I was about to go abroad for my higher studies, I met the most wonderful girl - for the second time. I had met her before (having been colleagues, briefly - but that was couple of years back). This time, I saw her in a completely different light and was surprised as where she was hiding all these years.

Back then, with every condition stacked against us, all we could do was to promise each other to wait till things get normal. And as we waited, she continued with her career here while I struggled with my student life there. Only thread that held us together was the will to stay committed to each other – as if we had something to prove to the world.

Ours was a long distance relationship for most of the period. We would be on phone 24 x 7 (Thank God for ‘Topup Calls’), giving each other every little detail of our respective daily lives. Thinking up of all kinds of ‘stupid-to-the-world-but-special-to-us’ little surprises to keep our relation alive. We also wrote, more importantly. (I don’t understand when people say ‘I can’t write’ when I say ‘write if you can’t talk’ - I mean we are only talking about vomiting your heart out, not to write a literary piece). Writing long letters/mails helped us to understand each other better than talking. And then we fought!

Every little squabble, every little argument, every little quarrel - brought us even closer – every time we stopped fighting and made up. We didn’t have eyes and ears for anything else. The relation to us was our very life.

I wouldn’t say we were alike. I was nothing like what she was. She always talked sense. I never even thought that way. She is smarter at managing finance. I am hopeless when it comes to saving money. She is much more grounded. I get excited easily. That’s an irony - considering the backgrounds we came from. Her household had a laid-back attitude towards everything in life. They mostly lived in the present. While we were brought up like it was a boarding school, and not a home – to us, my brother and me, school time was an escape. In her own thousand little ways, she complemented me the way I never expected would happen to me in my entire life!

Yet we were alike still. She gave importance to those very little things that I had importance for – and probably that’s why we lasted so long. Even without any formal ties.

(Let me add a little wisdom here. Most people don’t realize what they are talking about when they say we are quite alike in our tastes and interests – e.g. I have heard people quite immaturely quoting – we both have similar hobbies. Or, we like the same kind of movies. Or, this one’s epic – our favorite colors are the same! I don’t know if they really matter much - in a relationship. You can very well have different interests and still have a healthy relationship – this way you also get to give something new to your partner that they can’t have for themselves!)

Now friends often ask me about my story - as in how we managed to pull it off. That’s no secret as such but still most people do manage to overlook these thing. It’s just that when together, your (combined) outlook or attitude towards life needs to be alike.  

This is one thing I always tell anyone who care to listen – to have a ‘fight’.

To understand where the equation of your relationship lies, have an argument, lead that to a full-blown fight, sulk for a while, then try making up – what you get as a result is what is left of the relation!

Ideally, there are three kinds of people – in all kinds of relationships – not just husband-wife, but this holds good in all kinds of equations (between lovers/friends/siblings/parents-kids).

First there are people who are never affected by whatever happens to the relation. Today they smile and laugh with you. Tomorrow, they don’t think twice before leaving you and moving on to smile and laugh with someone else, if a quarrel is to occur between the two of you. You will be hurt. But neither do they realise nor are they concerned if you are hurt. To them, life should always be good and chirpy. They just don’t want to fix things. I would say they are good till the first real ‘fight’ you have. After that they are gone for good.

Then there is the second kind. These are equally hurt - just like you are – after a fight - which is good. But to them their ego is much more important than the relationship. Therefore, despite the fact it hurts them equally badly, they sulk into eternity but cut off all ties with you mostly leaving no room for communication - they are ready to sulk till they die. They will readily live with all kinds of toxins the body produces, but aren’t ready to let go and live. The other person has to first find a way to break in. And then, bend their knee and beg. Until then, they really don’t budge. Such people and such relationships are toxic. I would mildly put it – run. For your lives. And for everything else in between.

(You might think, what’s wrong if the one person bends down a little for the other – nothing wrong if both the people involved take turns at it. It might not seem bad in the beginning, but slowly the one getting pressed will start keeping accounts of all such moments, and a moment will soon arrive, when all the pent-up emotions will burst out and all the accounts would be laid bare. That won't be good for either of them – getting it or should I talk more?!)

Then there is the third kind. They put their relationship above everything else. They are hurt. But they hate the toxins so much that they don’t let them develop. They jump at the first opportunity for a compromise. But they take care to have a sensible heart-to-heart conversation, and let the argument have a proper closure - as soon as the tempers stop flaring. They, my friends, are for keeps. Give all you have to keep such people in your lives. You are sure to have a life that’s fulfilling!

Now this is where ‘respect’ comes in. I keep hearing people harping on love and passion and other stuff that attracted them towards each other. I don’t see anything wrong with that. But how long do you think would these last, without respect? I seriously feel respect is the booster that make us, try countless ways to continue falling in love with our own partner. Or, keep ourselves on toes to continually remain attractive for them – to keep the passion alive.

When you have respect, you take care not to hurt each other. And if one gets hurt, its respect that makes you ‘empathize’. Because that’s when you realize the need to kiss and make up - every time you have an issue!

When my wife and I decided to get married in 2012, we had two choices before us - we could either waste our lives waiting endlessly for someone’s indecisiveness or we could build a happy life for ourselves and prove ourselves right.

This could be one of the reasons why we never try to prolong any arguments (We can’t go back crying, having failed, can we?)  All along, during all our little fights, however severe the issue would be, we make it a point - never to take the toxins to bed.

To me, my marriage is definitely a blessing. And after all these years, I have (finally) made up my mind to have a laid back approach to view things. I have become calmer. I have learned to let go. What’s more, we are busy enjoying the new-found parenthood – yet another reason to thank each other countless more times!

Once, while we waited, I asked her why she was taking all these troubles, waiting for me, fighting the world. She said, ‘I am not waiting for you, but living because of you’. No one else had said or done anything like that before – let alone finding me ok enough to love me. Sounds flattering, though I still wonder what she saw in me when she chose to stay with me. May be it’s her kindness.

And when you change, you are usually the last one to know that. Friends who’ve known me from ages, even my brother, sometimes, tell me I have changed, a lot. I don’t feel any change about myself though. Well, if others do find me changed, then maybe I have. But I feel good about myself. That way, the change should be for the good.

What an average Indian citizen want from its government

As ordinary citizens, all we ask for is 

1. A strong control over inflation
2. Prevention of corruption at all levels
3. Food safety for one and all
4. Highly safe country for all its inhabitants
5. Stricter laws to ensure safety for women, especially anti-rape laws
6. Clean drinking water for all citizens
7. Advanced, affordable and accessible healthcare facilities for all citizens of the country
8. Free and ‘qualitative’ education for all - at least up to high school level
9. Better employment opportunities for the youth by fostering and nurturing entrepreneurship
10. Highly advanced common infrastructure
11. Sound and long-lasting roads
12. Highly sound waste management facilities
13. Well laid-out and maintained drainage systems
14. Uninterrupted power supply
15. Justice for all in its true sense of the word. 

And on our part, as responsible citizens of India, we are ready to 

1. Stay loyal to our country
2. Work harder in the professions of our choice – while staying within the law, being responsible for our actions, and making good money through rightful and fair means (working hard on being innovative and creative)
3. Pay taxes
4. Follow the rules and obey the laws
5. Co-operate with the public officials in the discharge of their duties
6. Stop getting corrupted or influencing others to be corrupted
7. Resist injustice from any quarter responsibly
8. Vote - if necessary (personally, I don’t mind being ruled by a dictator or a king or an elected leader as long as all the needs are taken care of)
9. Contribute to the development of society around us and towards the progress of our country using the individual capabilities of each one of us. 

I seriously and positively hope good things will happen in 2014 and in the years to come. As in, I seriously and positively hope for it to happen!!!

Survival. Of a household.

It is the same like in every other middle class family, where the parents worked – hard – in order to make both the ends meet, to pay for everything from the monthly bills, to education of the kids, to save for the future to give both themselves, and their kids a better-than-today tomorrow.

And in addition to all these essentials, like any other typical middle class family, they also had to maintain the status of an upper middle class life and show that living-beyond-their means is actually within their means. Thus, taking upon themselves the additional responsibility of upgrading themselves from a two-wheeler to a car, upgrading themselves from their old color TV to the latest LED in the market (wide enough to the cover the entire wall of the living room), washing machine that even dried to reduce the burden on the wife, refrigerator to accommodate as many people as in a marriage party, an air-conditioner to keep the flaring tempers down, sofa set that cost more than the entire household furniture put-together, and more importantly, by-passing all the interests and talents – natural born and developed ones’ (which they nourished in the first place) – of their children, and force-enrolling them into medical colleges or engineering colleges in order to brag before their colleagues’. The expenses of which has to come from bank loans (and that getting an education loan is viewed at par with getting a scholarship is a different story altogether).

As if these were not all, they also have to fulfill their long term goal - to get themselves a home of their own - despite the fact that there is a home awaiting each of the spouse, by means of inheritance, which off course neither ones will be interested in (as it lies in some far-off rural area, away from their place of work).

My parents belonged there. And I - a brand new parent, myself - am on my way. Despite being a rebel all my life trying to prove my parents wrong. 

On being sane...

If someone calls me a kid. I don’t get offended any more. To me it only serves a gentle reminder. I am still sane. I am 33. Going on 34. To-be-dad for the first time in my life. A son. A brother. A husband. A human being. And sane. 

Paranjsothy - Chennai Diary 2

Secret to ones happiness is to realize the goal and to experience the world’s wonders while never forgetting your family, or your loved ones. I have a woman in my life. And together with her, I am expecting the arrival of our baby.

In fact, I was at a point in my life where I was about to give up all my dreams. Since I was, no longer, the carefree, single guy with the luxury of staying focused to the goal, on a mission to fulfill my so-called destiny. Because all of a sudden, I had a family to look after.  

But like the great master Mr. Coelho mentions, ‘when people forget about their real purpose in life and start moving along the beaten track, a mysterious force usually appears before them to wake them up and to put them back on to the track all over again. In my case, the force happened to be my friends. New ones, I made along my way, and the old. Like it happened to me this time. And can I ever discount the role my very own father had played in shaping my destiny – I mean, every time he objected  to something I really wanted, I went for it double strong. In fact, my being in the cinema itself was winning the biggest battle with him.

It all began a week before the Easter of 2012. Prazi and me were about four or five months into our marriage and hadn’t taken a proper break as yet. Like we always wanted. And Easter holidays meant at least a three day break for her from work. That’s when I coaxed Bibin to let me be away from ‘the adcompani’ and called up Laxman about our visit to his place. 

The trip was pleasant. Six hours straight from Kochi in the Maruthi 800 borrowed from my brother. I loved the drive. Prazi seemed happy too. We saw places we had only seen in movies. Like Walayar Check Post. And Coimbatore. And the family of monkeys on the way. And the newly built highway that stretched between Coimbatore and Salem. And the umpteen number of engineering colleges along the route, but not even a single little tea shop. Prazi took a special interest in reading all the signs in green, along the way. Regularly telling me how many more kilometers to cover. How many more hours to go at the speed we maintained. Warning me time and again to reduce speed as cautioned by the road safety boards.

Laxman kept calling us, enquiring about our safety at regular intervals. And by the time we reached Erode, it was late in the afternoon. 

I met his kids for the first time there. I had only seen them in pictures before. Just as tired we were, both Kishore and Karthi, were as energetic. They made our tiredness vanish just like that. Both of them took an instant liking to Prazi, who couldn’t make out even one word they spoke. But what the heck, neither could either of them. And being kids, they would happily declare, ‘neenga enna pesharuthennu puriyiliye’. Poor Prazi, all she could do was to blush. Thankfully, Uma always came to Prazi’s rescue, translating and coordinating the three of them. 

It was on the next day, when all of us had planned to drive to ‘Ooty', the nearest hill-station, when Laxman casually mentioned that he wanted me to meet a couple of friends of his. From the Tamil film industry, who had a story to tell. 

We had the meeting at a resort-turned-country club near to where he lived. Gopu Balaji, the writer-director, began his 3 hour long narration dramatizing most of the sequences with wide shots, mid shots, tracks shots, close ups, and sound effects, which in fact, left us with the feeling of having watched a full length movie of the same duration.  

Towards the end of it, as we dropped them at the city centre and drove back, Laxman asked me my opinion about the story. Even though I felt confident about Gopu’s abilities as a director, and more importantly, as a story teller, I pushed the ball back to his court since it was his money at stake - so ultimately it had to be his own decision. There was a gigantic risk associated to it. There’s would be no plan B to it, in case it fails.

And when we parted from Ooty the next day, I didn’t have the slightest idea that he would call me out of the blue about three months later and come down to Kochi to give me the shock of my life. He was taking up the project despite my cautioning. 

He grinned sheepishly and said, ‘I sold a portion of my land to raise the money,’ when he met me at the railway station where I had gone to receive him. He had come to Kochi to ask me to be part of his project as the executive producer. I was given a week’s time to wrap up my responsibilities in Kochi and join them at the earliest possible date. 

Even though the proposal sounded good to me, I was shit scared. I still am. 

I'm here. And there is no Prazi by my side to tell me, ‘you’ll be fine eta’. God, I miss her. The doctor had strictly ordered bed rest for her till the delivery in December. I wish the child be born after Christmas. Capricorns make great directors. Not that I have decided the career of my unborn child. It’s just a passing thought. And yesterday when I called her at night, over the phone all I could hear was her sobs. Poor girl. I couldn’t even hug her to comfort her.

As of now, a thousand hurdles need to be crossed. Finding the leading lady is foremost of all. The 'Paranjysothy' team wanted a girl from Kerala. The responsibility was on me to find the right one. But I don’t really understand what it is with the girls in Kerala that Tamil film industry continually prefers them. I mean every other Tamil movie features a Malayalee girl in the lead role. No offence, though, to any of the Malayalee girls. They are all beautiful. But then question is - aren’t there enough pretty girls in Tamil Nadu?

And despite the auditions we had at Kochi and later at Chennai, the results weren’t quite encouraging. The girls, that we sort of zeroed in walked out on us, citing lame excuses. Why the hell did they audition for the role in the first place anyways? OMG... The perfect heroine, where art thou?

Something to think about...

Nature doesn’t care if you are rich or poor. Single or married. Committed or sleeping around. On its part, it does what it does best. Providing for all of us to fuel our passions. And emotions. And everything that’s in between. To cut the long boring discussion short. It doesn’t really hurt to plant trees. Ok, not if it’s even just one. Not at least once in your entire lifetime. And let’s be thankful for the air we breathe and water we drink and all the other things that we haven’t thought much about. Like say, the life that we live.

The bitter truth..

All I wish is to live as long as my kids grow up - enough to start hating me for being their father.

On being practical...

If one doesn't get emotionally weak, a lot could be gained financially.

Oct 2

Somewhere sometime back a great man was born.
Somewhere nearby a little while ago someone close just died on me.

Pearls of wisdom.

Losers look at life like they didn’t lose it at all. Instead, indulge in some ego masturbation and term the time wasted as experience.

Great xxx is like an exciting roller-coaster ride. You start like you just slipped and you need an extra breath to stay balanced. Then you have no idea where it’s going. Soon it feels like you badly want to stop it and don’t know how. Then it stops. And you want more.

Food is good. And tastes like heaven. Especially when you are hungry and your eye balls tend to roll out of their sockets.

And finally, it’s not that I don’t like to drink and drive. I just hate the police that stop me to check the toothpaste I use.

We.

We are because of the choices we make.

Importance. Of being myself.

I am the child. And the man.
I am the wise. And the fool.
I am the mature. And the immature.
I am the known. And the unknown.
In my efforts to love others around me, I forgot to love myself!!!

Kerala. Damp. Humid. And unreceptive.

Back home in Kerala. Did they miss me in the last three years? Off course, they did. Why? No one has a clue.

Everyone is still the same as I left them three years ago. Stubborn. Unmoving. And harsh. What are the expectations? Again, no clue.

What have I gained over the years? When I haven't been able to convince my own loved ones, what's the use of having the world at my feet? No clue.

Life's is burning out. A stand hasn't been taken as yet. Bloody hell. But what's the worth of the empire that's been built on the dead bodies of your own blood? Any clue?

Emotions. Plain & simple.

3.30 pm, 29th April, 2011, Dubai, UAE

On 29th March, exactly one month before the immensely discussed Royal Wedding, I was actually walking down the road that led to Westminster Abbey from Buckingham Palace with my friends Vicky and Roshan. Then, even for once, it didn't seem so important to me to be there to witness the mega-event just a month later, and in some strange way, be part of history.

In fact, at that point of time, I was somewhat irritated at all the hoopla that was made of it. All I could think of was to get out of that place at the earliest possible instance. Literally.

But today, as I sat watching the whole ceremony on live TV, I did feel a little sad. May be not for not being there to be watching what almost looked like a beautiful climax to a romantic comedy.

Leaving London for good, shouldn’t be bad after all.

May be it had more to do with the fact that it’s been four years since I met her. And three years into the relationship. And still, she’s there and I am here.

And I miss her. Damn.

On identity...

We are what we are because of what we do.

Adios London.

Done with London, finally. And now, moving on.

I hope, wish and pray - all is well. For me and for you and for the entire human race. And as for now, Dubai, here I come.

I?

A normal human being. Living to give love. Take love. Make love.

On Tea vs Coffee...

I don't know what's so much special about a proper 'glass' (available at most of the wayside tea stall just anywhere in Kerala - not 'cup', it kills the joy of having tea) of STRONG tea. Strained (well, it could be the most dangerous part - to ask the chap who makes it for you to give it back strained - But I HATE the layer of butter that forms on the top and the white ones that get in along with the milk and swim around all over the glass - they look like dirty white torn linen flowing in muddy water - so straining is a must!) and spotless. With lots of sugar. With may be a packet of biscuits to go with it. To dip in it and let it melt in your mouth. I love it. Mmmmhh...

But then, the tea I make, PATHETIC...! I am just so hopeless at making tea.

So I always take the safest option out. Sippng hot 'cup' of sweet black coffee. Safe. Ya, as in SAFE! But if you add milk to it, well, I'd rather have plain hot water instead.

On hard times...

When things start going wrong for you. They all do together. One after another. With no particular order. And not necessarily they need to be connected with each other. There should be some science behind it. Only I am not too sure what it is.

Pay it forward

Something really funny happened today.

I was at the corner of Eagle Wharf Road just about to start my bike when I heard a loud thud on the opposite side of the road. I turned back to see a girl, flat on the pavement, helplessly trying to stand up. The entire pavement was still covered with thick layer of snow from yeasterday's fall.

I ran across and pulled her up.

Then asked her, 'you ok?'. She nodded. 'Well then', I thought to myself and walked backed to my bike. And I was so proud at what I had done, that I dint even wait to hear her say 'thank you'. In fact, I dint even lift my head once to watch her going. I was so swollen. With pride, that is, as I said before.

I started my bike and went in the same direction the girl was walking. And then, it happened again. This time it was me.

I hadn't even covered about 10 meters, when my bike went over a hump, slipped and fell. Both, my bike and me. The ice was so slippery, I wasn't getting a proper grip anywhere to hold on. And on top of that, I had my right leg stuck under the bike. I couldn't move a bit. I knew the girl was walking towards me. But at that point of time I just wanted to get the bike up somehow.

Then something really surprising happened. Another girl who saw me fall ran towards me, almost slipping twice herself, calling out, 'are you alright?'. When she saw my plight, tried pulling me up first. But then I was stuck. She tried to life the bike then, but was too heavy for her. I couldn't help her myself.

Finally another biker who was right behind me, got down and came forward. Together they lifted my bike and helped me stand up. Well, all I could say was 'thank you so much for your kindness.'

Now, what struck me was that the whole 'paying-it-forward-process' happened just within the matter of 2 minutes and 10 meters.

Thinking about it I do find it really very funny, as I said in the beginning. Who says fun things don't happen in such cold weather conditions.