Christmas: Kerala Style

Disclaimer:


Any resemblance to real people (living or dead), places, events etc. is just coincidental. This is a work of fiction albiet inspired from real life experiences [;-)]

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Here, a modern-day-mallu is trying to explain how a Christmas Star became a symbol of religious tolerance for him.

Before the Christmas stars outside our homes go into oblivion - (means dumping them under our cots or over the almirah till next christmas) - let us take a kaleidoscopic (thanks to spell check) view of the Christmas stars that shine all around us.

Here goes the story.

Subbru's Christmas Star and religious tolerance

There exists a peacefully quite Cochin suburb to the south of the city where people co-exist in a sort of apartment township. As some real estate websites describe it, it is not really a township but a delightful countryside village. Incidentally, I have managed rented accomodation here. Air and noise pollution almost absent, it feels good to go for evening strolls here.

One evening, I was coming down the stairs with the exciting prospect of a walk, good food somewhere and bit of fresh air. On the way I bumped into my neighbours Mr. & Mrs Subbramanyam, and their eleven year old son who were standing outside their apartment. For the record, Subbramanyam is a 100 kg material and prefers to wear shirt only sparingly.

''Going home for Christmas?'' Subbramanyam asked, trying to be friendly.

''No... just going for a walk, heading home only on 24th'' I replied.

Mrs. Subbru rarely makes an attempt to be friendly. She consciously puts up an ''I'm a biggie'' kind of expression every time we cross path. However, this time she was kind enough to offer me a Sharad Pawar-like wry smile.

May be it's a Christmas effect. Or I thought so. After all, Christmas season stands for joy and peace.

Subbru juniour was busy irritating his cat with a pencil and even tried to scare me by holding it at my face. The animal looked like it was on the verge of losing it's patience. Neighbourhood diplomacy reminded me to pretend that I got scared by his antics. I did that and Subbramanyam nodded his head like the playful elephant at the Jumbo Circus. Appreciated.

About an hour later, I returned to the apartment.

Some hundred meters from destination, I could see that the apartment building had more lighting than before.

Another twenty-five meters...

???

???

The extra lighting is in front of Subbramanyam's house. They have a Christmas Star!!

Now that's Religious Harmony & Unity in Diversity sandwitched!

Such great neighbours. I wanted to appreciate this gesture by way of a smile but they were not around. Not even the cat.

After savouring the moment, I went one floor up - to third floor. At the landing between the second and third floors, it was sheer darkness. Already looking like the fire exit route of a 15th century ghost house, it is creepy to walk up the stairs in dark.

There used to be an incandescent bulb somewhere nearby the stairway. Old fashioned may be, but it was bright enough. Surely, it was there when I was going out.

Now where did it go?

Using light from the mobile, I checked to see if it fused out or something.

??

??

THERE IS NO BULB!

....

....

The bulb on my floor missing and the star on Subbramanyam's floor shining - all in a span of one hour...!!!

Yeah, I suddenly recalled that happy thought. Such nice neighbours...what great religious tolerance...and ..and ..and...

all @ the expense of my bulb though...and I had no damn clue that Subbru's family was waiting for me to go out so that they can take my bulb.

The living legend of Subbru's Christmas star (with my bulb inside) thus taught me what real religious tolerance is.

I bought a new bulb.

The 'goodness' legend

Lots are being talked about him. Forget all that.

Look beyond his 50th ton. And beyond all his records. Beyond all analysis over him.

Sachin Tendulkar. Just look at him. And you instantly have a feeling of goodness. Right? He epitomises goodness.

I say so because:

goodness [ˈgʊdnɪs]

n

1. the state or quality of being good

Few icons of our times qualify to be called as a 'goodness legend'. The dressing room feels good if he's in the eleven. 1 billion cricket lovers feel good when he is playing. During the 96' cricket world cup, I remember a foreign columnist famously opining that 'Indian streets look more enthusiastic on a day when Sachin gets a hundred'

That's Sachin for India. One feels there's absolutely no one around, who can create such a deep sense of goodness.

He's beyond all that is talked about everywhere, including this space. He's almost one of India's 'National Symbols'. May be more than that.

It is good that his brother had the vision. It is good that Dennis Lillee was unimpressed with his fast bowling on that day at the MRF Pace Foundation.

''Take a bow, legend''

An sms I received from a friend today morning narrates an incident that happened after a One Day match between India and Australia at Kolkatta. Brad Hogg, the crafty Australian spinner took Sachin's wicket in the match. When the match got over, Hogg gave a photograph of that wicket to Sachin and requested an autograph. Interesting stuff from Hogg, right? Now read the rest.

Sachin put his sign on it but he wrote down something as well -

''This will never happen again''

And that statement stands even today. Hogg hasn't managed to take his wicket again!


The video given above is a piece of nostalgia - that old pepsi ad featuring Sachin in the 90's. It brings back good old memories and the mood that prevailed at a time when the whole of India were glued to their TV sets every time Sachin came out to bat.

Curious coincidences: The stranger at the super market

It was spring 2009 in Glasgow city.

I was at Aldi stores, on the lookout for some cheap vegetables and apples. Once done, I proceeded to the cash till with my pickings in a basket. The store wasn't very busy on that day and hence it wasn't a long queue in front.

 A few meters away from the till, nearby a rack where they keep processed fish, two young men were engaged in a casual conversation. ''Asians..may be Iranians'' I told myself after having a good look. When they moved towards the till where I was standing, their conversation became louder to my ears.

"Tesco-yekalum Sainsbury-ekalum okke cheap Aldi thanne, alle...dey..meen medikano?"

''Definitely not Iranians or Kazhaks. Malayalam....Malayalees!" I exclaimed to myself.

The number of Malayalees I had come across in Glasgow were very less, say, less than ten, and this explains my penchant for this breed. My fellow Kerala(country)men joined me in the queue and soon we broke into conversation.

The FAQs when a mallu International student meets another of his species are these -

1. Which university?
2. Which course?
3. Where do you stay?
4. Where do you work?
5. Where in Kerala?

This takes about five minutes and then they give ceremonious 'miscals' to each others phones. It was as if they just stumbled upon the phone number of British PM . Once out of the supermarket/cinema/mall, they forget about the British PM they just met and not even bother to save his number.

It was no different when I met Cristo. Yeah, that's his name. (Not his real name) Additionally, Cristo told me that he was departing to India the next day. He was probably doing some eleventh hour shopping. After exactly five minutes we looked at the clock and decided to follow the tradition; i.e. to give 'miscals' to each others phones. I wished him the customary 'bon voyage' and we said good bye.

'Just another malayalee-bumping-into-malayalee incident', I thought as I walked back to my apartment. Days and months passed by. I returned to India later that year and started work at a business magazine. Time flew as I finished one more year in God's own country .

One day I got a call from home. My mother conveyed to me that Liz (Not her real name), my cousin, is getting married.

''Great, Whose the groom?"

"Don't know the details; Anne (not her real name) told me he works in the UK" my mother said.

In the days ahead, Liz and her 'UK would-be' got mentioned in my conversations with kith and kin. Strangely though, I never bothered to ask the question 'Where in UK is her boy?'. Maybe I simply assumed that Liz's guy is not from Scotland. Alright United Kingdom is not Vatican or Maldives. It is huge.

A few weeks later, Anne aunty herself called up to 'officially' invite me for the marriage. While we spoke about her would be son-in-law's whereabouts, she passingly mentioned a word that I'm pretty familiar with.

'Scotland'

This is interesting.

''Where in Scotland Anne aunty?" I became curious.

"Glasgow" Anne aunty announced.

Now this is more than just amusing.

"So he studied at Glasgow Uni?"

"Huh..not Glasgow university but some other University in Glasgow I think" aunty clarified.

Although she mentioned the groom's name, I couldn't fix this Malayalee Glaswegian. Two days later somebody forwarded a photo to me with the subject line in caps. 'CRISTO'. I had a look at the snap. ''Hmm..smart fellow, he'll be an excellent match for Liz''. I closed the mail and signed out.

Three seconds passed.

Something flashed in my mind. All of a sudden it appeared that the name 'Cristo' rings a bell to me. Another three seconds and I finally fixed the Malayalee Glaswegian who will steal my cousin. It was as if I suddenly remembered that forgotten email password. I quickly logged in, checked his snap once more and confirmed my findings. The next best thing I could do was sending a mail to Liz. And I did.

It was a grand wedding. Understandably, Cristo too couldn't fix me at first but was able to, later.

''The stranger I met at a super market 5394 miles away (The distance b/w Kerala and Glasgow. courtesy: timeanddate.com) a year ago is now my cousin's hubby'' I was telling myself when the bride and groom were entering the church on the wedding day. That's cool stuff.

There are numerous strangers whom we bump into every day. Mostly, they remain the same, i.e. as strangers. And when they don't, it becomes an amusing story.

Resurrection

This place is soon to get a new lease of life..resurruction time! ..& making sure that it won't fall dead again. So, stay tuned... 

Kerala Varma Pazhassi Raja (1775-1805) - 2009!

Writing a review an hour after relishing a movie and a month later are wholly different experiences. It is highly likely that a few details otherwise gripping can be missed out here. Just consider the experience of savouring a spicy hot samosa served directly from the cook's frying pan to eating it the next day morning. I reckon the uneasiness will be the same for all of us. Out of choice, I am trying to pleasure myself upon a cold samosa today but the experience will hopefully be worth enough. In a sense I am not too sure that this piece qualifies to be called as a 'movie review'. It is an attempt to recall a theatre experience than make a detailed review.

My Pazhassi experience happened on a Sunday - a second show screening at Veeraih theatre, Aleppey. Indian Cinema is a marathon affair usually spanning over three hours. Had it been any other movie, I would have hesitated in opting for a second show sitting. I have to confess that the ghost of 'Kanthasamy' is still haunting me. In the movie, he distributed the riches among the poor in vintage Robin Hood style but it is a fact that he robbed 100 bucks off my wallet and further tortured me with his cocky ways for the next 2.5-3.0 hours.

''No, Pazhassi won't disappoint us'' quipped my friend. He was right.

A few days before we went, there was power failure during the movie and the Mammootty fans ran amok in the theatre. The theater was closed for a day for repair work.

''Good! So there won't be any more power failures!''

There was a loud cheer in the theater when the Cast and Crew list showed up. To add to the DTS DOLBY effect, my peers in the first class filled the cinema hall with bombshell shrill and howls. A never ending thundering applause every time their Superstar Mammooka (Mammootty) appeared in full splendour. Understandably, when 'SPECIAL THANKS TO MOHAN LAL'' was accorded, the response was lukewarm. After all, it is advantage Mammootty when Pazhassi's hitting the silver screen:-)

However, lets not jump the gun and call it another Troy. Yes, the Industry does hold promise and it's a landmark film not just for Keralites but for the whole country. Pazhassi Raja is a grand beginning for world-class movie productions from the Kerala soil but we still have miles to go.

Returning to analysis, Pazhassi Raja had everything to make it a magnum opus. The cast was perfect and the crew did a remarkable job. The king (Mammootty) was calm and composed, chivalrous and tactful and his demeanor befitted his royal stature. Although Pazhassi's heroics mostly happened in forest settings, the grandeur and splendour of royalty was sprinkled everywhere and the film literally took us back in time. The invincible Edachena Kunkan (played by Sharath Kumar) was the towering muscle-studded Commander-In-Chief of the Pazhassi army. He had glorious support from the tribal archers led by Thalackal Chandu (played by Manoj K Jayan) who almost did the impossible for his king. If Chandu is Tarzan with bow and arrow, he found a lioness partner in Neeli (Padma Priya) who was at ease while traversing the rough terrain of Wayanad. Hers was a rustic charm and this charm more or less superseded the queen's beauty. (Kanika as Kaitheri Makkom). Although Suresh Krishna's imposing figure suited his role as Kaitheri Ambu, he would have done better had he possessed a seasoned warrior's physique if not a six-pack. The same applies to Suman (Pazhayaveedan Chandu) too.

After Anandabhadram, Manoj K Jayan once again showcased his rich repertoire. If anyone doubted Sharath Kumar's fan following in Kerala, the debate must be settled by now. His was a class act. M.T.Vasudevan Nair did a commendable job in scripting the film although one felt that some of the dialogues lacked punch and was too naive. Resul Pookutty's brilliance came to the fore through out the film. If there is one scene that stands out in the film, that is when Thalackal Chandu was hanged in front of his own people in dramatic settings. There was thunder and lightening and coupled with Manoj's brilliance, the scene had a containing effect on the audience. Music and Romance didn’t have much of a stake in the movie, which was mostly immersed in a plethora of good fight scenes, military strategies and great warriors. However, one of the songs in the movie "Aadiushassandhya Poothathivide" did have an impact on the audience.

Like in the case of all period films there were minor flaws that could have been avoided. For example: The introduction of the English Company with a march past of soldiers was clearly lacking in synchronisation. The intro scene of Pazhassi Raja could have been a little bit more eye-catching if not pompous. Above all, one is bafffled by Hariharan's decision to use Padma Priya's own voice that spoke phonetically incorrect Malayalam. A tribal woman in Kerala should be knowing Malayalam right? There is an email doing the rounds with a snap shot of the movie in which Manoj K Jayan is seen wearing Lunar slippers:-) Not sure about the authenticity of the claim but it looks funny. Refer the picture below. This is nothing new as Rolex watches and airplanes have been featured before in similar period films and dramas:-)These minor misnomers, however, can't take the credits away from what is an amazing film.

The theater offers an experience so unique that you won't get it at home. There is a scene in the movie, which shows the oppressors and traitors in a party mood. The three generals clinked their glasses and said 'cheers'.

'Cheers'

That was cheers number four. Now where did that come from? Surely, there isn't a fourth general seen anywhere on the screen ...for a fraction of a second the audience wondered where it came from. The next fraction - the entire theater burst into a unanimous laughter and applause. This general had been waging his own guerrilla war for a while now and his voice had become familiar to the audience. This general was actually sitting somewhere in the Royal First Class category, probably drunk! The timing of his toast was such that it was hard to distinguish it from the actual toast on the screen - so the 'feel good'.element of the movie is working alright.

To sum it up, when Mammotty and Hariharan joined hands 20 years after Vadakkan Veeragadha, another classic is born - The legend of Pazhassi Raja. My verdict: Must see if you pride yourself in being a son of the soil, a true patriot! Long live the king!