Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Winged With Love...

Trichy airport, as usual busy with silent flyers and buzzing keep alongs. I was one among the silent fliers. Silent, very silent. I am flying to Singapore now. I have taken up a job there and am to report tomorrow. My flight is at 14:30 hours. I fly to Colombo, nightstop there for eight hours and fly again to Singapore. I get a hotel room to stay at Colombo. It's gonna be a long journey. Good that I brought a book along. So, here I am. Me and the book.

Let me take a coffee. The coffee vending machine is in a corner of the waiting hall. I walk down there. There is a phone booth nearby. And there stands…

"...Hari, you've got to move ahead... you have to sow some time to reap, better sow now and forget about her... yeah, I liked her, I don't like her anymore.... why?? You wanna know why? Because you're everything for me and anybody exploits your goodness, they mess with me -- I'd be on the plane soon... keep your head still when I am not here. As soon as I get my
phone in, you're my first call, that's a promise... where are you going now?... good, hit the books, get that degree, one day we'll laugh at this thing together... you bet, I do... mmm.. Later."

Quite an emotional geek I think. I turn around and take a look at the caller.

Am I thunder struck????

Waw man, this is one perfect Srirangam beauty. Perfect "What I want?" specifications. With a mild sunlight color, long nose, big dark eyes and a perfect face which would suit a Lord Krishna imitation well. This is one of the things I like about Trichy. The girls from Srirangam.

She looks great. Well, what else you can say about a young cute faced girl who is on a go at the phone. That she is beautiful, talks sense. Seems to be on par with her English. Dresses good. Has a great shape. That's it I guess.

Hmm… "She has a Mr. Everything, brother" I tell myself, take a deep breath and get back to my seat with the coffee.

The Public addressing system calls for us to board. I pack my bag and board the flight.

"Ay Bhuvan, May I know your seat number, Sir"


"This way Sir" a Sinhalese accent.

"Thank you"

I move ahead in the aisle. 23, 22, 21, 20 and 19.

Wow… I pinch my self once. Then again. Yes, it does prick. I am not dreaming. A flabby smile creeps into my face; I concentrate very hard on not letting that mischievous smile be too visible. It was very hard.

The girl on the phone is sitting in 19a.

"Excuse me"

Where did I get that accent from?


"You are sitting in the seat allotted for me"

"Ah, sorry, my seat number is 19b"

"That's the other one, the window seat is 19a, its mine" I say.

"Oh, sorry"

She gets up and leaves way for me to get seated.

I unpack my bag, open my book. It's a different book now. I am not going to read a Tamil book now. I take out "The Atlas Shrugged" and start reading from a random page.

In the fall of my first year in college I started reading 'Ayn rand'. Since then some book of her has always been with me wherever I go. How helpful it is at times. You bet it was hard keeping my eyes on the book. And believe me, only my eyes were on the book. The flight takes off. I yawn once and close the book. I turn my head to the left, and then to the right in the pretense of relaxing my neck. I look at her eyes again. The girl is browsing through the onboard flight magazine. She closes it and keeps it on the pocket attached to the front seat

"Can I have that magazine?"

'Don't you have one in your seat?' she snaps. Ow, my my. This is interesting.

"I wouldn't be asking you if there was one here, would I?"

"I wasn't intending about the magazine. I was talking about your intention to make up a conversation" she says. She could have rather slapped me.

God, an I am - superior type! The kind who presume that all Young men in this world are behind girls. The sort of girl who thinks that in a country where chauvinistic attitude is at its helm, the girls must be five times as smart as men. I get irritated.

'Listen, leaving aside your narcissistic tone which I care least about, I need that damned magazine' I say.

'Wouldya please watch your tongue Mister?' she says handing over the magazine to me.

God which side did I wake up today. Why does this need to have happened this way. I think to my self. If she had some goddamned problem with some 'everything' of her, why does she have to eat my head? The thought of her 'everything' makes me go silent.

I think about the situation for a minute. Here I am sitting next to a cute girl. She is in some problem and is not in the mood for my what she thinks idiotic interruptions. But she is cute; I am not giving up that easily. Lemme go about it cool.

"You on transit?" I ask bringing the situation to the negotiation level. The ball's in her court now.

"Yep". She answers.

That's a green signal. I see a white flag on the mast. So I tread ahead cautiously.

"I am on transit too. I am making a night stop at Colombo. The airlines is arranging for a stay at Colombo till the time of my connectivity flight"


We go silent. We get our lunch served. The Girl closes the magazine she was browsing, turns around and sets down to an overflowing plate of rice and some vegetable dish, potatoes and toast, the Air Hostess fills her cup with some juice.

"Veg or non veg for you Sir" She asks me.

"Veg please ".

Veg!!!! What am I saying?? I have started eating nonveg like a pig after my brief stint at Muscat.

"Any beer"

"Nope, thanks"

By this time the Girl ties into the Lunch, eating it with such relish that I couldn't take my eyes off her. She senses my eyes, glances over, her cheeks filled with a mouthful of food, and swallows embarrassedly. I catch her glance and smile a bit. She gets the situation, and laughs with all the food still in her cheeks. Thank God, she gets easy at last.

"I am kinda hungry. It was a very tuff morning today, missed breakfast and adding to it, had to report early for boarding, you had your lunch"

An outspoken emotional high headed geek, to be correct, I tell myself.

"No I didn't, it must've been a very hard morning" I add.

She smiles; probably she thinks that I am commenting about the way she is going at the food.

"I heard you on the phone"

"Mmm" She sounds confused.

"Back at the waiting hall, it was fascinating"

She seems to be thinking about it for a minute. It was a hard minute to pass. I am never good at making up a conversation. What I can do is all direct talk. And pretty serious ones. I have to know people very well to take off with a conversation. And here I am trying to make up one with a total stranger. I have shot an arrow. Now I am sitting with fingers crossed for a response.

"Oh yeah? What was 'fascinating' about it?

"You and 'your everything'"

That was the limit. What am I saying? 'Her and her everything'. Good, holy god. I couldn't keep the itch of knowing about 'her everything' guy. But you might well understand, the girl was real beautiful with big eyes and all. But where did I get the gut from. Today is some day for me I think. But she answers immediately without a beat…

"Ya, my kid brother, He just broke up with some lousy friend and he's very upset. The younger generation seems to be getting things very early now a days, it's kinda another world for me"

"I am sorry"

"Nothing to be sorry about. That's the way with people nowadays, right?"


"Nothing is forever"

"I agree"

I would agree for anything she is going to say today. I am getting cracked up.


Caught, she is asking "why"

"I thought I'd just be agreeable, you seem to be too emotionally involved with the thing. Now I've got to explain why?"

"I'm not trying to sharp shoot you, but that 'nothing lasts' stuff, that's what, was the trouble with Hari's girl. She wasn't sincere enough and Hari felt it. They all do it for the peer pressure and age factor. It somehow doesn't last. But anyway how did you know I was emotional over it"

"Here you are explaining the things, arguing and explaining to a total stranger. Would it be difficult to judge that you are emotionally charged over the issue?" I ask.

We sit in silence for some time. Did I make a mistake by using the stranger phrase? I made her remember that I am a stranger I think. Curse my tongue.

"Listen, I am sorry for that heated talks in the start. It was my mistake. I was too messed up with my own problems" she says.

"Oh, that's alright. You are beautiful enough to justify that reaction" I say at my charming best. Oh god, I must be mad to say all this. This is real too much for me.

"Don't get too smart, techie" she says.

"Why do you call me a techie?"

"You are an IT pro aren't you" she asks.

Hmmm... That's interesting. "How did you know that?"

"You look stupid and behave rich" she says.

"I am real smart but behaved real poor today I think"

"Oh no, I am real smart but I behaved real poor today, you didn't"

"I see that you are smart"

Another silence.

"So you're not that sort of a girl?" I ask after ten minutes.


"You're not that sort of a girl, the one who aren't sincere, not influenced by age and peers?"

"Damn right"

I keep silent. What am I trying to prove? Where am I taking this conversation to? Anyway it's more of my sort of a conversation. It's been serious and sense till this minute. No honky ponky stuff.

Another minute.

"How about you?" she asks

"Me, I am a one girl guy."

"So is there that 'one girl'"

I go silent again. Probably she just wants to pass time, I may start stories about my own crushes and romances to her. I don't feel like doing it that way. I keep silent.

"I crossed limit, I think" She says

I giggle, trying to get the situation back to where it was.

"No you didn't, I am single, and am waiting for my girl."

We go silent again. Interesting enough we haven't known each others names till this moment.

"So what's your name" I ask.


I keep silent. Let her ask the obvious question.

"And yours"

I tell my name. I feel like saying "Bond, James Bond" instead. I had seen HUM TUM recently; I was pretty impressed with that sequence. And somehow things were very similar now, I got reminded of that.

A moment passes.

"Is your girl there at all?"

I smile. Now I am in the groove. She is just as interested to keep the conversation going, as I am. And more still, we are already talking deeper stuff. We seem to have jumped over some barriers right away. This doesn't happen with me, normally. A very rare meet indeed.

"I am waiting. Otherwise, who knows? You might be her." I giggle saying that, trying to sound it as a casual joke.

She laughs.

"Well, don't laugh, I just arrived in town, got a new job -- I'm flying now. Everything's been sudden and happening."

We go silent again. This is the problem with serious conversations. People tend to think in between conversations and get into their own private zones.

"You a doctor?" I ask.

"How'd you know?"

"I smelled you"

Oops there I go, grave one, but I realize that, only after uttering it. She is silent.

"Bad joke" I say.

"Very bad"

"what kind of doctor, the one that puts injections?" I continue.

"hmmm internal Medicine"

I smile. "So if I needed a doctor, you could be it"

"I coulda been her"

"Her?" I ask again.

"Yes, I coulda been. I had an office in the hospital here, KMC Trichy. But that isn't the situation now"

"-- This is my lucky day.

"I arrive in my own old city and I not only find a doctor, a beautiful woman as well. I'm sorry, you mind my saying that?" I add.

"Not at all, but you seem to be saying it too often" she says.

"When did I say that last?"

"Just twenty minutes back"

"How thoughtless of me, I wasted twenty long minutes" I say.

"Call it shameless" she says.

We laugh.

"How 'bout a cup of coffee in Colombo?" This was one real chance taken. Shooting an arrow blind I'd say now. We have been talking for a while now, I can break the barrier, and anyway I need to spend eight hours in

"I've got my connectivity flight immediately after landing in Colombo"

I look at her puzzled. My flight to Singapore is after eight hours. That's not immediate. I look at her inquisitively.

"In three hours after landing, to Oman"

Oman, O-M-A-N, Muscat. She is going to Muscat.
Oh. A moment passes.

I smile. She looks at me.


"Nothing for you, my own joke" I say. I had been in Muscat before this, Why didnt I meet her there?

I smile again "How 'bout half a coffee in Colombo, then?"

She laughs aloud now, "I have to board the flight to Muscat in 3 hours"

"And I want to get into my hotel room, take and nap and get back to the airport, board the plane and reach Singapore. Please, what do you say, a cup of coffee or half at least?

"If you won't call me beautiful again" She smiles.

"How about tea then" I tell her.

We giggle together while the captain calls for seat belt instructions. We are landing.

I gaze at the runway on the screen.

Airport Lobby, we are at the nightstop counter. I am on the queue waiting to collect my hotel and cab details.

"Do you guys always do this?"


"Flirt with any stranger you meet"

"Well no, not always. Only with beautiful young girls."

"Don't talk as though girls don't like this" I add after a beat.

"I don't like when some stranger comes out and talks to me"

"I see that"

She is silent, and smiles after a minute.

"And so do you" I add.

The Coffee Shop, Colombo evening.

The place has cleared out, the counterman busy bussing tables laden with flowers and vases; we are still at the counter, but about to leave.

"...It's a Technical consultant job."

"'Technical consultant'. What technical?"


"Mmm... My cousin's in that area. Going to do that all your life"

"I know what you're saying. Doesn't pay very well. But, I sorta like it. It sure pays better than the other Networking Guys, though. I am a consultant. It pays next only to Management and software guys. I want to grow myself up for the sorta life I wanna live. I wanna move ahead, into management soon. Anyway, lot depends on the woman I marry. Maybe she'd like a bigger house, a better car, lotsa kids, schooling kids isn't cheap anymore–"

"You'd give up what you want for the woman you marry?"

"I could, life's all that, a fine compromise between your professional and personal life."

She rises now, I with her, leaving money for our bills we head for the door.

"If I married, I'd want to give her what she wanted, I know its old fashioned and all that, but what's wrong with taking care of a woman? She takes care of you."

"You'll have a hard time finding a woman like that these days –"

I open the door, "You never know. Lightning could strike."

She's at the door now, pauses abruptly, her eyes on me.

We are outside the coffee shop. I hold the door for her as we step out onto the lobby.

She is staring at me, I am sorta embarrassed, and maybe I talked too much. I felt like I have hurt her someway, donno what. I smile, an open and let loose way.

"I've got to go –"

"Did I say something wrong?" I ask. "You look grave"

"No, it was so right it scares me."

We are near the cab now. She would get back to the airport lounge board her flight. Its time to part.

"I've been thinking..." I say


"Thinking about asking you to be my girl…

A beat

"But I decided against it"

She holds my glance for a minute. We stand there in the lobby looking at it each other.

"I can't be anyway, but I still ask why?"

"Because you are a doctor, as a principle, I don't like doctors and..." I laugh.


"And you are stupid and behave rich" I say.

A moment, then another. She holds my eye for an instant more than what was required. I stop laughing.

"We'll meet some day; I hope to meet your girl then. Let her better not be a doctor or I will shoot you on sight"

She gives me her card.

It reads. "Vidhya Chandrashekar, MBBS". I gaze at the card for a while.

"That's my husband. He is a doctor, Muscat" she says without my asking.

I laugh; I continue it for an extra moment.

"I've got to move." I say.

I walk towards the cab. At the cab, I turn around and see the place she was standing at. She isn't there. The cabbie honks, the cab moves ahead leaving the airport behind. It was drizzling. I lowered the windshields in the cab and sat gazing at the drops of rain dripping from the sill. The airport lobby was getting smaller by the moment. We were moving ahead.

"How long will you be here, Sir" asks the cabbie.

"I have to take a nap, get back to the airport, board the plane and move ahead".

I lie back on the seat comfortably watching the drops of rain from the window sill.
"and miles to go before i sleep" i say aloud.

The cab driver laughs as though he understands.. i gaze out through the window again...

Author's note - Ithu(kathai/katturai)kku pinnadi neraya story/screenplayvoda inspirations irukku. It is not outright sontha sarakku, just a muyarchi. Apram ithil varum sambavangal yaavum karpanaiyae.

Srirangam, Trichy.

I feel like God

How many of you have seen this new Bajaj Avenger DTS–I commercial? If you have not seen it, make it a point to see.
Ad filming is a great area, I personally am in awe with Sharad Haksar. He hits your eye by telling the concept with one still shot. I and Mahesh were talking about starting a blog just for ads, sometime back.

Leaving aside things I like, this commercial from Bajaj is great, just great. It’s a beautiful ad which uses a rocky outskirt road, and a warm backdrop for a rider in black and a black bike. Colors and the settings are perfect, it gives me a sense of calmness and suddenly I feel at ease, somehow I can relate to the person shown.
The guy rides the bike cool, voiceover starts- “I forgive...” – cut – a man slapping – cut, voiceover “... My father”. It catches your attention right there. We are indians and that statement is eccentric for us, right? He goes on to forgive the girl who ditched him, his boss who fired him, the barber who gave a scar over his lips (the model does a great act at this particular point), he forgives the government for bad roads, and finally to top it all they show a guy having trouble with an old bike and we hear a voiceover “I forgive my past”. Just pause this moment and look yourself up in a mirror, you would be smiling. Now the model goes on to say that “I feel… I feel like god” and you really do, on seeing the ad and putting yourself in his place. Great work by who ever conceptualized the commercial. Kudos, man.

You can download the ad here.

note: This was not a review of the bike, it’s about the ad. So when buying, check the specs… forget the ad… or later we’d be riding our perfect bike and we’d be saying “I forgive Bajaj avenger”

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Why Blog?

I was googling for details about blog layout changes. But whatever combination of words I gave, I was not able to find what I wanted. That was when I saw something interesting. You get more tips about blog writing than blog designing. You are being given all sorts of advices. They tell you to add a picture at regular intervals, they tell you to start a query and leave it for the viewer to answer, and they tell you to do this-do that - all for what, to increase viewer ship of the blog.

It was interesting. I was wondering how i landed upon my blog. I remembered doing big big write-ups and sending it across to all my friends. Those write-ups involved philosophy, photography, psychology, poems, stories anything I liked reviewing or anything I wrote... all my friends would reply the way I know they would. It was boring at times because the comments were predictable. There was a definite pattern, I always knew who would read what and who would say what on reading the things I write, those were my friends. I also found that I was writing things matching their taste; otherwise I won’t be getting a proper feedback, will I? That’s when I got this idea of starting this blog, adding to it our collection of processed photos were also increasing so I thought that it would be a podium to showcase some of our interesting photos too. But we were very sure that the photos showcased should be our own. That’s how I am here now.

But looking at these sites which are telling the bloggers how to blog and what to write to increase viewer ship, I got a doubt as to whether blogging is for our own sake which gets viewers as a result or is blogging done for the viewers and what I write is its result.


Ever taken a MBTI test? I landed upon one when I was in search of some details about C G Jung's explainations on shadow part of psychology. Ever since I have become a firm believer of what those type indicators mean to convey. Heard that they are being used in organizations for team formation nowadays. There are lots of these tests in the market and it is being said that the best way to take the test is to take an official MBTI ( Myers-Briggs Type Indicator ) instrument from a professional who has met the standards necessary to be "qualified" to administer the test. An excellent resource for "qualified" persons is the Association for Psychological Type. But after lots of trials and errors I found the MBTI test provided in The DDLI Page consistent. It has worked for me and has worked well on my friends who have taken it.

I myself am an INFJ, they generalise me as a Counsellor. As I saw, it went well with Mahesh too. Initially when I had taken the test, I was giving big lectures about how true it is, how it works and how there are these personality types all around us and how no personality type is wrong and how problems are only due to mismatch or collision of two personality types. On the first go, he wasn't believing me at all, and why would he, even I would have done the same after our self generated ideas about personality development tools and personality development books. But later after too much of hitting the nail, it sunk into him. You should have been there with us on the day he had taken the test. He was giving the same lecture I gave him, back to me :-(, Took his revenge I think.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Back to School...

Ever been in a school day function cursing you headmaster for talkomania? Or how do you rate it waiting for the drama or a prize distribution ceremony you are involved in? I have always felt why people keep on reading reports, reports and further reports when the audience is waiting to see some fun. Well, was a kid then.

Happened to go to a school day function yesterday, for a photoshoot. One of our friend's son won some prize in a competition and was being awarded. Our friend invited us. Felt that we may end up on some nice photographs, so we went there. Atleast this time, the function wasn't boring.. someone was talking, someone was getting the prize.. we were just shooting.. Did beat time there, ha.

Somehow, Got reminded of this poem from Kalyanji..

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Dr.Rudhran's Nijangal...

Have you read Dr. Rudhran's "Nijangal"? I had read this book long back. Was re-reading this book. Rudhran has this nice way of explaining Psychology to everyone, even to a layman. I for one was impressed by his program series that came in RAJ TV. That led me to buy this book. This is a nice book on personality disorders. It's a good book and a must read if you are interested in psychology but have no strings attached to that part of science. Maybe this book will give you a thread. I had translated one of the chapters from the book some time back, Did it for timepass then... I present it here.

I didn't understand the way she was. Would you feel fear, pity, revulsion and mock all at one instance. I felt them. Her tongue was what caught my attention . What happened to the tissues beneath the tongue, my physiologist brain was asking too many questions. Her tongue was stretched out that long. I should say now, the tongue is not beautiful. The whole bulk of it has come out, she is screeching in a hair raising tone. Uf, I am not here, I don't need this. But, I couldn't run. Her head is shaking now. You would have never seen this in your life. It wasn't the perfect cinematic vision of tossing a head off a neck, neither was it an amateur try. It was something in between them. Her head would have rolled a 270 degree, I'd swear. She was in tears. A violent houl was coming out of her mouth. Her face looked like asking "what it all meant", but the sound that came was a big "eeeee…" followed by a "uvvvv.." I am done with this, I can't tolerate this one bit more. I came out of the room.
This has been happening for three days now. Me, I am a doctor. I live my life with lots of patients visiting my clinic. I am busy. And the women we saw now is my wife. Yes, I did try to do something for her. I even tried tranquilisers, the first two days. I tried to keep her calm, get myself some time to sort it out. I didn't know what it was or what to do. I had to help her, and I found no other workaround than tranquillising. But today, it was total defeat. I could have better injected her with distilled water. The tranquliser I injected was no different.It seems that an "aaaa" has got added to her vocabulary of eeeee and uvvvv now. That aaaa implies pain, I realise the pain in her sound, do you hear it.
The door bell rings.Its Vinay, my next door neighbour.
"what's happening doctor…" was the way he entered.
I asked him to take a seat. "Mythili, Vinay has come" I hear the loudness of a silence from the room where mythili is. Vinay was gazing at me, I gazed back. We smiled as a formality.
"what then…" he says.
I thought of a metaphysical "What am I to say. Who knows what then? Is there one such thing as a then.." sort of an answer. But kept quiet. I smiled.

"Doctor, it seems that your wife is ….. mm.."
Now what, he has opened the scene. Its my turn to give a speech. So I talked. It turned out to be a cry rather than an explanation. Its three days now. I didn't understand what was happening in the beginning. It was growing with each day, and a ball started rolling in my stomach. Now after my best armour named valium became useless, I couldn't help but think of the reason which I didn't want to think about. No, It couldn't be that. It shouldn't be.
After listening to all this, this dumbo left saying "OK doctor, just let me know if you need anything… my wife is there to help".
His wife, Good God, I would rather call devil than calling her. She was the billboard I needed the least now.I went inside. She is sitting in a corner, gazing at the floor between her thigh. Hair all tossed over the front. I sense fear in my voice when I called out "mythili". She raised her head and faced me. This is not it. This is not the face which chides me in bed. The face which used to charm me never had the rudeness it has now. This is different. Something else. It started its "eeeee" again.

I should not believe in exorcism. I am a product of science. I am a doctor. But this isn't my wife. My wife is a thirty year old house wife. She is a commoner. She is my life, a women enjoying her life at home, doing the occasional help at my clinic. Spending time joyously watching mega serials. Exalting at small gifts. Considers going out to temple together as a picnic. Enjoys my presence always, my ease out point in life, but this is not her. This is something else.I decided not to go to the clinic. I understood the rhythm of the noises she was making now. It was getting used to me.
It was then, my other neighbour came. After sitting gazing at each other for a while, he started telling me all the exorcist stories he knew. Started telling me about chottanikkarai. Vinay's wife too had come by this time. She started telling stories about yaervadi dharga, sholingur. All these places were far away. How would I take this thing that far. Finally we decided on a place some forty kilometres from Chennai.
Even the taxi driver knew the place. The exorcist was in a hut there. The hut was inside a garden with lots of greenish creepers. Somehow the place looked peaceful. We took this there and made it sit. He was sitting with eyes closed and this was sitting idle. Vinay and my other neighbour were outside. The taxi guy had gone for a smoke. I was sitting gazing around the hut.
" mm…. OK" he said. He kept a piece of brass plate on Mythili's hands.
She leaped out shouting " AAhhh". He laughed.
He asked me to go out. There were lot of people outside. Some of them had the expression that I saw in a mirror two days back. Some faces had faith. Some had fear. He came out after ten minutes.
" someone has done a mystic thing against your wife. She is being possessed by a little girl's soul now. But it can be removed"
I started thinking about how much it would cost.
"put eleven rupees on that plate and come in"
He wrote lots of things on a paper, rolled it and put it into that brass plate. He asked me to tie it around Mythili's neck. He spit on her head.
" It will be OK, you may leave"
I didn't understand a thing, We all started leaving. We all bowed to him ( even mythili bowed) and left. We came home. Mythili slept off immediately.
It was nine in the night. She woke. I was caught with fear again. She came by my side, touched my fore head.
" aren't you feeling hungry". This is my mythili. I wept. I wept for 15 minutes together keeping my chin on her shoulder. She started crying too.
"what is this, why are you weeping" she asked." you are making me cry". We went to bed without having dinner.

My friend is doing his D.P.M. He laughed on hearing this.
" this is called hysterical dissociation, brother… what the exorcist did is called a suggestion, scientifically"
"She didn't remember a thing she went through"
" You are a doctor. you did this!. Its shame on you" he said"
I gazed at him for a while. I thought about the exorcist and his face for an instance. My mind said that I should believe him, he made my mythili ok. If this was not true, how is mythili ok now, it all happened after going to him.
"At times, these suggestions work temporarily, guru. But beware of relapses". With his doctor's attitude.
Again…. Not again.. I am not ready for that… what should I do if it happens again.. should I go to the exorcist or should I go to the psychiatrist. What should I do. I sat gazing at him.
This is called hysteria, or Dissociative disorder in psychology.. we all would have seen or heard lot of things like this in our own life. Many of us would have seen people behaving as though god possessed them when we go to temple. People behave possessed even while watching movies about godly people or god.Hysteria, gets its name from hysterus. Hysterus means Uterus. In olden days people were under the misinterpretation that this problem arises due to uterus problems in women and hence was named that way. In modern psychology it got changed to lot of other names… one of them is Dissociative disorder.

So what is this? Ghost, Pent up soul, Muni, Saami, Satan, Mogini, Paei anything that possesses anyone are all considered to be by products of this disorder. All these by products are things we formulate and are in line with our cultural and transformational growth. They are imbibed with inspirations from the life we have seen and the way we grew. That's why we very rarely see a Hindu being caught by a Christian God or Satan and vice versa. Literacy, social status, and cultural beliefs decide this.

When a God or Satan possesses you, you can do things which you normally can't. You allow yourself to give a damn about society, about your responses towards the society. Your mind allows you to do things which are not normally recognized in a society. Your social gesture goes away. Normally this behaviour is intended towards some expectation. You expect things to change around you, donno how and act possessed. The change you expect may be anything, a social change, or people's attitude towards you. Thats the logic. But calling it phony or an act wont be right. The mind needs the sort of aggressive play it does, to relieve itself at times.
These sort of problems, even if they look hard superficially - are very normal, simple mental disorders. Hypnosis helps. 'Suggestions' are the best way to solve the problem. This may come to anyone, men-women, no caste/religion barred. It may come to anyone in a stringent atmosphere with a loosened individuality. You can take these people to a priest, exorcist or to a psychiatrist. All of them help. It is better to take them to a sort of a person or to the cult where they have more belief. Psychological treatment helps in solving the problem all together.

Kuttraalam waterfalls, Southern India.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Seetha, Photoshopped by Mahesh

Vishnu, Photo taken my Mahesh.

My Blog's Photographer

Mahesh, He's the guy who's gonna add some color to this blog. My official photographer. I was telling him yesterday that I am gonna add his photos (the ones I like)on the blog. He says that he'd add some nice comments about the photographs on the blog. So if you see some lavish praise about these photographs, Beware... It could be Mahesh. Lets welcome everyone with a wave now...

Monday, August 22, 2005

Madras's Birthday

Madras's birthday. That's the headline in every blog today. I thought, I too would write something about the Madras I know.

I don't know any history about Madras other than that it was renamed as Chennai in the not so distant past. I don’t know much geography about Madras other than that it has the second largest beach in the world. I have been to only one Marghazi festival and don’t know much about the stuff they sing.

So I would rather talk about the Madras I know about. My recent visits to Madras have all been filled with lots of romantic episodes. I sorta long to visit Madras these days.

But in my childhood days, we used to visit Madras during my summer holidays. My Uncles were staying there. So we'd come here to madras to spend our holidays. My holidays would be spent in the small colonies of velachery and in my Mama's industry at ThiruViKa Industrial Estate. I would roam around my Mama's industry alone, gazing at the Lathes and other Machinery.

Two of my Mamas were staying in Madras and one back in my village. Our summer holidays used to alternate between these two places. Madras wasn't like our village which had lotsa ponds, rivers, green rice fields, coconut trees and the outta my brains reach adventurous Village kids. Madras was more of loneliness and regular visits to my uncle's industry.

The only consolation was my other Uncle, the younger one. He was single at that time. And since I was a kid, I was allowed to visit his privacy which no one in our household ever dared to. He was called an eccentric in our house hold. He read Balakumaran, other books which I don’t rememebr, talked philosophy with his friends, and watched all sorta movies in all sorta languages that came to Madras. I was allowed in all of them. I was usually the silent observer of his talks with his friends, the out of age company for the movies he went. My first Malayalam movie happened there. It was Lal Salaam, if I remember it properly.

He had this habit of having someone scratch his back when he was to sleep. Scratch seems a harsher word. But the act was lighter than that. So we would sleep in his room, with him often cajoling me to scratch his back and listening to old kannadhasan's philosophical classics. They some how still stay in me. I can say that he inspired me into books very early in my life.

Some incidents like my first experience with a television and my first look of Rajinikanth's house happened then. I still remember out visits to the Saravana Bhavan. It was very new for us then, we used to talk about the astounding taste of the food there. At times, I skipped our dinner at home and pushed my Mama to take me there.

Then new kids came into our household and I and my mama became distant. I spent my time with the other kids. I remember our visit to vandalur zoo, vgp and mamallapuram. Losing a shoe in Marina and falling into mamallapuram beach to be helped out by your appa might have happened to everyone, but they remain etched in my mind as some thing for ever. Snake park and Childrens park were our all time favourites then.

Things started falling apart in our family and our summer holidays were taken away from us without our consent. After that visiting Madras has been very rare.

I remember visiting Madras when I went for my IIT Entrance Coaching Contact Programme. I felt bored of the class after an hour and went out to see Speed in Woodlands. I still claim Speed to be the best action film I’ve ever watched. I remember climbing a bus on the run for the first time, after the movie. I probably thought myself to be Keanu Reeves. Somehow that incident remains in my head still.

After that it all became college-home-college. After college, it has been somewhat regular visiting Madras. All my friends moved to Madras, and I moved to Noida. It became an once in a year trip and it was a trip we always longed for. Delhi and Noida were two very dry places for my needs. I somehow used to long for Tamil Movies, Tamil Music, Tamil Books, the place and the crowds.

Coming home was always a great happiness for me. I would stand in the train by the door and smile at the sight of the first rice field, first coconut tree, and first Tamil cinema poster. Madras was the entry point then to get to south India. I used to spend my first few days of the holiday there, spending my time with friends. Those days were always scheduled, with friends being informed prior to my visit and all the plans of all roaming previously etched out. Elliot’s beach replaced Trichy's Rockfort for our talks. I became the normal Chennai guy to visit Spencer’s, Satyam and all the usual places everyone visits to spend time there. They are the places where the crowd turnout and they are the places which somehow keeps me going.

Madras these days has been funfair, My visit brings all my friends to Praveen’s house. Praveen’s appa even complains that all these people visit them only if I go. And my time with them always leaves me longing to visit Madras as often as I could, As it leaves me longing now.

Happy Birthday Madras.