Sunday, July 27, 2008

You Bloody Morons! Enough! Let us Live!

I have been in a rage over this weekend. I have not talked to anybody, have not looked at my phone, neither appeared on any of the IM environments to have a chat with my friends. India, having been known as the best players of spin bowling, lost a test match in Sri Lanka, by a huge margin. There are thousands of reports lying all over the internet. I haven’t read even a single one of them. Although I open my browser once in thirty minutes, to look at the post-match commentaries, I end up looking into yet another news-broadcasting website and all I see is blood and blood and blood.

About two months ago, the 13th of May, 2008, I had to go through a similar stressful week. One of my friends, K let out all his anger at terrorism. Here are another couple of incidents within this short a span, my goodness, I can’t take it. I had constrained myself to comment anything on his thoughts, just because I don’t believe that by killing the so called “terrorists”, we can really eradicate terrorism. I did not want to convey my opinions stating the power of Non-violence and henceforth, stayed silent. I believed in the power of Ahimsa, well, I still do!

However, my friend was perfectly right in making his observations, right from beginning till the end. Yes, yettt another time, India has become a victim of what those savages call the “holy war”. Why is India the target every time? Even before we could recover from the first blow, why is that we receive blows after blows?

I wake up Friday (July 25th) morning and read about the Bangalore blasts and the aftermath. I spoil my entire day thinking about this; do nothing productive and go back to sleep at 4 AM. The next morning, I wake up late, at 10 o’clock, with half-closed eyes, open Rediff’s home page and I am shocked to see that the death toll has increased to 20. Were not the blasts of less intensity? How did “1 death” increase to “20 feared dead”? Hold on, this says Ahmedabad? Should it not be Bangalore? And here it goes, a huge set of reports for the new blasts. Simultaneously, a live bomb has been defused in Bangalore. And to piss me off, this group called “Indian Mujahideen” has sent an email to the Ahmedabad police, a few minutes before the blasts, stating “Stop us if you can!”

“Ok guys, what the f- do you want!”

Like many other people, I am not able to get away with a feeling of sympathy for the affected ones. I am not able to say “What a pity” or “Che, Paavam!” and move on with my own work. I am not able to read reports with graphic descriptions, not because of aversion but because of affliction. Another friend of mine asks me, “Why are you swearing those people? Why don’t you understand that you can’t do anything?” Honestly, I am not able to say to myself that this is out of my control and get along with my day-to-day activities. (It’s close to three in the afternoon, and I am yet to brush.) My thoughts go back to the ten year old kid lying on the bed, even without knowing why whatever happened to him really happened. Why did it happen? I fear, the answer to this question is out of reach for every single sane soul on this earth. I don’t think even those bastards really have an answer to this question.

You want to show your power? You want to show what you are capable of? You are just capable of doing one thing – killing innocent people. And you have shown off that extremely well. Kudos.

On December 13, 2001, when you stormed into the Parliament and bumped into the Vice President’s car, yes, you did prove you can breach high securities. But why did you do that? Just to kill those securities? Just to make deprive Jyoti and Shweta of their loving mother Kamlesh? Of course, the Government can utmost honour her with the Ashoka Chakra, but why all this?!

October 29, 2005 – Extremely brilliant choice of the place and timing. The busiest of markets of the Rajdhani, on the eve of Diwali.

March 7, 2006 – Holy shrine of Varanasi, twin blasts at the train station and the temple.

July, 11, 2006 – the unforgettable series of bombs in the trains of Bombay.

September 8, 2006 – the blasts in a mosque in Malegaon, Maharashtra

May 18, 2007 – Blasts in a mosque in Hyderabad.

August 25, 2007 – Twin blasts in Hyderabad

Oct 11, 2007- Blasts in Ajmer Darga

Jan 1, 2008 – Attack on police camp, killing the loyal servants of the country.

May 13, 2008 – The Jaipur blasts which are still fresh in the minds of the countrymen.

July 25, 2008 – So called “low-intensity” blasts at Bangalore, still taking away the life of a woman. One or many, does it matter?

July 26, 2008 – And now, Ahmedabad.

Clearly, within the past three years, there have been so many attacks on a still developing country. And of course, there is a section of people who claim, “And for how long more India will be a developing country?”

Yeah, I can hear some of you already screaming at me. (Both of these questions were indeed put forth to me only to raise my temper. Fortunately or unfortunately, I get raged when somebody gives a reason for their indifference as “What can we do! Just move on!”)

“Forgetting the nation, you have flown to the US. You have forgotten all that was given to you by the nation, and now, seeee… who speaks of patriotism?”

“I am a better patriot than you. I am still able to just pity those innocent souls
and move on!”

Firstly, don’t ‘auction’ patriotism by comparing two individuals. Secondly, the issue of concern is not “patriotism” at all. It is something else. I did question about all the attacks on India. Let me include this as well, probably the most-famous terrorist attack, in global terms.

September 11, 2001
==================
I don’t even ask you why. What was your aim? You just wanted to destroy the two towers? Why hijack two planes and hit the towers when it was probably the maximum-populated? So, all you wanted is death of 50,000 innocents? You have any idea of how many survivors went into trauma and are still trying to recover? It’s going to be seven years, dude! Forget the wrath you have incurred upon the US Government, forget the financial losses suffered. Think of the millions affected, physically and mentally. Think of those people who are never going to recover from the trauma. Think of those kids who died even without knowing what the world is about. Think of those kids who have their life ruined now because of having suffered parental losses.

I can’t help it, if you are not still able to identify where I am driving to.

However, at this juncture, I would like to point out the difference between a so called developed country like the USA and a developing country like India. After one huge blow, the USA somehow recovered (at least financially) and is trying to pay back. Whereas, India, even before it can recover from the damage caused by one attack, is again subjected to distress.

Dude, are you afraid, India is going to be super power in 2020, as predicted by someone in the country? And you just want to spoil his dream? Do you think you can establish that by killing a child who is yet to set his foot on this world? Bloody bull shit! If you really want to put this country back, the only way is for you to set your foot forward. Look at china, who can now boast that they are far ahead of India in almost every walk of life. Why are not ready for a healthy open competition, you cowards?

Just as I am writing this, Rediff updates stating that “Indian Mujahideen” is actually what was known as SIMI. Congrats that you have successfully spoilt the hearts of Muslim Students and they have apparently agreed to your so-called ideals. Good. Take them somewhere, and stage up a healthy competition. Why do you want to go on a killing spree everywhere in this holy country?

Hinduism is what you hate. Yeah, every religion states that you shall go to hell if you don’t follow the principles of that religion. Excellent, all of us are going to be in hell sometime. Why do you want to make this journey even before we start to live our lives? Hate Hinduism, but why hate people. I am talking about a country, where Gandhi’s son, Harilal chose Islam (he later converted back) whereas Jinnah’s daughter Dina decided to stay back in India until her father’s death in Karachi. Why place religion before humanity when, people are given the freedom to practice what they want to!

By killing Hindus, you think you can eradicate Hinduism from this country? Joke! History says, the then Hindus of this country were extremely compassionate to help you in all ways when you first came to this country. We didn’t chase you away. We did embrace you. You took advantage of the situation and tried preaching whatever you thought was correct. You should have stopped there!!

Now, in return for all that the Hindus had done to you centuries ago, what all we demand is one single word… peace! We are in an age, where Hindus and Muslims do interact as if they were brothers. We are at the juncture of taking India, not from level 1 to 10, but from level -1 to 0. Just think of the past, and give us what we seek – peace! We have not done anything for you to seek revenge. Don’t we even know to protest upon your physical attack. There is really nothing in it for you in continuing to do this. This is an imploration, stop this killing spree. I don’t want India to be a super power in 2020. I don’t want anything else other than people ‘living’ in this country.

You don’t have to case agitation in the country. Indians can just boast of themselves, “Different in colour, creed, language from Kashmir, to Kanyakumari, we are united in the fact that India binds us all!” It’s all crap. What all India can be proud of is the endless history of Hindu-Muslim riots it can boast off, mindless politicians who are so focused on making money out of people’s swear for their own profits, thousands of castes that keep fighting amongst themselves arguing over the superiority of their ideals and very, very few talented people who want to work for the development of the nation. Well, the last class, somehow decide that it is not going to work and leave the country with so much grief. This just reminds me of the more recent infamous Ant-Grasshopper tale.

Ok, let us to come to deals. What should be done to stop this mindless killing of innocents? Yes, we accept that you are extremely powerful and are capable of anything. All of us plead guilty to you bastards, for mistakes that we really didn’t commit. Will you be able to set aside all this and give up your activities? No, you don’t have to surrender. You don’t have to lead a noble life. Just spare the lives of the countrymen.

I don’t want to comment anything about the security of the country. I don’t even want to think about the intelligence officials in the country. All of them start to work once the damage has been done. They boast of deducing extra-ordinary cases. Tamilnadu police system is ranked second, only next to Scotland Yard. What a pity, the Rajiv Gandhi mystery is still unsolved. No comments. No Comments. No Comments. Period.

When I slept last night (i.e. Saturday), there was a huge bundle of emotions going through me. Hindu, Kumudam and Rediff were pouring in more reports about suspected locations for terrorist activities and I could not stay away from reading them. Out of mere frustration, I went out of my home late in the night to come back only 3 in the morning. I did not have a long sleep either. This morning (Sunday), honestly, I woke up fearing for a hatrick. Finally, the intelligence agency has worked to defuse another live bomb in Ahmedabad. Stop it morons! Kudos to all your work. You have shown thy prowess. That’s enough! Let us live!

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Thx Gilly!!

Not many times, this has happened to me. I just remember one another instance in the past, September 3, 2006 to be precise. That was when Andre Agassi retired from International Tennis. I really could not digest the fact that it was his last day on court. And now again, Gilchrist! I had never dreamt that my emotions would ebb for an Australian cricketer. Oh yeah, nothing happened to me when Warne/McGrath bade goodbye a few months back. May be, I did regret for Steve Waugh. But then it was when he almost singlehandedly denied an Indian Series win on Australian Soil. Somehow, or the other Gilchrist becomes special to me.

His action when he was declared not out in the WC Semifinal 2007 (by who other than Steve Bucknor!), well, I can never ever forget that. He just hit his head with his fingers and started walking. Sri Lankans were like "What!"

(Though Steve Waugh expressed his dissent on "Walking", I feel a great deal of sportsmanship in it! Tendulkar did walk after he stormed sharjah with his flurry of shots after the desert-strom. Yet, Gilchrist did it after being declared not out!)

Cya in IPL Gilly!!

Btw, I am just beginning to wonder what will happen to me when Dravid or Sachin announces his retirement!?!!

!@#$%^&*%$#!?^%$!

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

JK Rowling, Harry Potter and Me!!

I was one of those thousands, to buy "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" on its release date. I tend to laugh at myself when I think of this act of mine and the state of mind way back in ...

It was about six years back, somewhere in 2001, when i first came across this name called JKRowling and her creation, Harry Potter. Even then, I just heard those names, knew nothing about them or the three books that had been released already in a series of seven!

I was in my eleventh class then, and as a part of an assignment in English course, we were supposed to enact a radio show for about sixty minutes. Some of the girls with whom I was teamed up with came up with the idea of interviewing JKR with some funny questions such as "Do you believe in magic?!" It sounded really crazy to me, however, I had to agree to their plans for they had agreed to my plan of a conversation between Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein. Well, for the next two years, I forgot these two names, well, not Newton and Einstein, but Rowling and Potter!!

Sometime in 2003, some crazy people in Chennai started the habit of dubbing almost every English movie that was released in the city. And as I was living Pondicherry, the local cable operators would screen such movies on Television. And one fine day, it was funny to see Hermione, with her blond hair, to speak in thamizh. I laughed.. laughed heartily!! She looked very cute to me and I loved her... well, that started dying away as she entered into her teenage... Now I don't like the Hermione of 17, as much as I liked her when she was 12 or 13.

And after I entered into my college, Sriram made me read the first book... Philosopher's.. er... Sorcerer's ... er.. whatever!! And I read it. Not bad! Well, the book was totally different from the movie I had seen. Only when I read the second book, I learnt that I had seen the second movie. So, I had known the important plot details...

It was "The Prisoner of Azkaban" that lured me completely into Harry Potter! Nobody would be able to control their praise for JKR while thinking of her ingenuity in stating so-well concelead hints... Be it Scabber's broken finger or The Whomping Willow... And of course, the order in which she reveals statements and facts, only to use them later in the cleverest fashion possible... well, Hats off to JKR!

And then "The Goblet of Fire" ... excellent plot but lengthy!!
And I felt "The order of the phoenix" to be really boring... there was no story absolutely and I could not stand flirting at Hogwarts, be it Harry or even Hermione!

However, "The half blood prince" showed indications of a gripping climax, which Rowling was aiming at in her last venture! And after its release, I was just in a position, "Well, I have got to read the last book, just to know what happens... just to know the truth.. just to know 'everything' "

And yeah, I knew everything on the 22nd of July.
Rowling is a master story teller!!

Why should there be an "Expelliarmus" from Draco towards Dumbledore in HBP!! Why should Draco try to kill him??!! All knitted well enough to ensure that the Harry becomes the true master of ... You shall know what when you read it!!

And it gives a great feeling from inside when Harry Potter remarks of Snape, "Probably, the bravest of men I ever knew to exist!"

And Snape, has been my favourite of all ever since "The Philosopher's Stone" and thereby... he shall continue to be forever!!

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Right From The Heart !!

I have known her since... well I dont remember. I just have a feeling as if I have known her eternally. I have spent pretty long durations with her. Yet, very recently, I realised something. All these years evaded me from realising something significant. They have pulled over a curtain
over my thoughts, so that I could have never realised this fact.

When we were together, I had never told her my liking for her. May be because, I have never even imagined about this bond breaking. Why would have I imagined about it ??!!

Later there came one day, when it happened that I could not spend much time with her. I should say, it was purely due to my mistake. I must have confessed everything then only. (May that might not have taken us this apart) I dont want to blame the so-called-fate!! I could have easily defeated fate.

It was actually, my college that first set up a partition between us. I am very ashamed to say that, it has taken three complete years for me to realise that I miss her. Those lovely nights I had spent with her are still afresh in my memory. I just want to go back to those days. If she
were with me, nothing is going to disturb me. I forget all my worries, my mind just overflows with happiness when she is there. Now, life seems to be dark and lacking flavour. Those memories still keep haunting me, calling me back to those days.

These three years, three years at IIT, have made me realise ... that I can not live without her. Forget all assignments, all quizzes, all exams, spend my entire time with her ... thats what I want to do during my last year at IIT. She is an essential ingredient of my life. Yes, I have now realised life is going to be literally sour without her. She is a part and parcel of my life. I am just longing to get back to her lap and seek her refuge. I know, if I get back to her after these many days, she is definitely going to accept me, for our bond is still strong.

Yes, I have no hesitations in saying the truth.

Nithra, I love you .... !!

Thursday, May 25, 2006

My Web Page is out !!

And yes I have made a webpage....

Shankar Narayan's Page

It has two sections, in English and Thamizh

I have talked about my interests here.
My short stories will be published here. (well, who else will publish them ??!!)

You can know about aazhvaarkkadiyaan, Mary Westmacott, thamizh cinema, Kundavai, Miss Marple, of course Nandhini and everything I have come across so far in life...

Hope you like my page.

My Yet Another New Story - Enna Thavam seidheno!!

Again this time in Thamizh.

My previous story was also in thamizh, Nayagan Oru Nangai

There were some reasons for which I wrote the previous story in thamizh.
But i simply dont know, why this is in Thamizh ... may be a translation would be worth it!!
But where is time for me ??

This is also a sort-of-love-story written in just two hours. I could manage the entire thought process and the script in two hours. It is in PDF format again !!

Enna Thavam Seidheno



However my next story is in English and it is something to do with the environment I am in currently, its stationed at IIT !!

Hopefully, I do it sincerely !!!

Sunday, May 21, 2006

My New Story - Nayagan Oru Nangai

Finally after working hard for four months, after screwing up my academics, my new story is out.

"Nayagan Oru Nangai"

I have worked on this script very much and have not worked this much for any other story. Thats what makes this special to me.

I have uploaded it on my webpage.
It is in PDF format and hence you dont need special fonts to read it.

www.shankarnarayan.co.nr

Read it and pass you comments

Shankar

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

A Note on The Revolt of 1857

More on Opinions

Though I had been blogging for the past few months, It was Amrit who really lured me into
real-blogging, though I am not into it completely.

After reading my "Once Upon a time in India", Amrit had written,
"This one was kind of disturbing. Why did they need to be so cruel?"

This has forced me to write a note on the revolt of 1857.
What we are really lacking is a neutral view of the same.
Renowned Writer Sujatha had once said, "I started writing about it once, but I got threats - Stop writing or you wont have your hands to write. I preferred to be with hands"

It is of great importance to note that there are a few good books to describe the Freedom Struggle from a neutral view point, for instance "Freedom by midnight"...

I will be happy to find one such book on the freedom struggle... Jawaharlal Nehru in "Discovery Of India", refers to this as a FEUDAL REVOLT. One more important thing to note here is that the English dont even care to call this as a "Revolt for Independence". They rather call it, as the Sepoy Mutiny.

They are correct to an extent. This was a result of no patriotism or selflessness. Everybody who took part in the revolt had some personal reason.(Please refer the link below if interested.)

Yet we still call this as out First Struggle for Independence...

If you read books by Indian Authors as well as by the Britishers, you might be get yourself on to a confused state. But the bitter truth is both are true.

Well, If you had so far thought Indians were peace-loving, holy people, I fear you would have to
change your opinions. I would not be much wrong if I were to say Indians displayed what they called BRAVERY in a cheap manner.

Though my story is pure fiction, I really think the true situation would have been much much more cruel than what I have written.

There were much more slaughtering and butchering of women and children in reality. It was a TIT FOR TAT as far as the Indians were concerned.

So is the case in my Story, You killed our leader's son... We killed yours... And now you kill us.

So remember, we have also been violent to the core at some point of time...

If you are interested in reading more about the revolt and the way the Indians and the British
tackled it, you can read this site.

The Journey Begins ... A Story Tree

Thanks to Amrit Vatsa for allowing me to continue this story. I am sorry to have exceeded the word limit.

What you read below is a story contributed by count-them-how-many bloggers. The story is interesting enough to excite each tagged blogger; and excite him enought to carry on the legacy of his taggers by contributing to it while following the rules at the same time (the rules are listed at the end of the story).

Have fun as the journey continues...

>>

He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

>>

Pushing his luggage under the seat, he sat close to the window. "Papa, when will you be back?" - his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently. He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. "Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata," his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni's little fingers parted from between his. "I need to go..", he thought, "I have to, at least for Munni's sake.."

>>

The humid summer breeze and the rattling train coaxed him into an uncomfortable state of drowsy consciousness. He dreamt that Munni ran away, the closer he ran to her, the farther she was, like a mirage.

He woke up with a start and squinted at his watch."What is the time please?"A smallish woman, a meek voice as if she was scared that her existence would annoy someone. Her only noticeable feature was her rather large, expressive eyes."4.30"Something made him look at the woman again. He had stopped noticing women long back. Ever since Meenakshi passed away...

>>

But this woman was different. She reminded him of someone he knew. In an instant he realized who and the painful memories came flooding back. She looked exactly like his childhood sweetheart Madhu. As teenage lovers in a conservative society, they had often met secretly and had declared undying love for each other.

Then someone had found out and all hell had broken loose. The elders in the village Panchayat had ostracized Madhu's family as she was from a lower caste. Unable to bear the humiliation, she had committed suicide by drowning. That was twelve years back...


>>

Could it be? Could it really be him? He seems different, weary and downcast. Oh no will he recognise me? No, I am dead to the world. Still she cautiously wrapped her saree end around her head and across her face.

Behind the cotton screen, her mind drifted to happier times, languid strolls in the corn fields, games at the riverbed, his gentle caress, whispered sweet nothings, stolen glances at the temple fair.

Tempted to take one last look, she consoled herself that he wouldn't notice.

Slowly she lifted her eyes only to find Rupak staring back at her.

>>

She quickly glanced the other way.

No, this girl looks too close to be any other person. She is infact Madhu!! “Hey, Madhu!” he called.

She struggled hard not to respond to that call. And successfully managed it too.

Hey Madhu, you forgot me?” he inquired her and came closer.

The old lady sitting opposite to him was looking at this unapprovingly.

“No, you are mistaken, My name is not Madhu.. I am Supriya”, she lied.

Hey Ram! a young girl cannot travel safely in this country without being stalked!” the old lady muttered angrily.

>>

The girl walked briskly away from him, trying to escape his glances, as though she was hiding something, not wanting to be discovered. He stood confused, she had said her name wasn’t Madhu, and should he run after her? Or should he let it pass, after all he still had a train to catch.

His heart told him it was Madhu, followed her, all thoughts about going to the city vanished; he was on delighted to have met Madhu after such a long time. He was filled with memories of their time together. He finally caught up with her. Looking into her eyes he said, ‘Why Madhu? Why this to me?'


>>

"Please dont lie to me anymore"; sounding more like the Mani he used to be ten years back when he had first met her at the Village temple, rather than the arrogant side that seemed to rule his life now. "I know it is you, nobody else but you Madhu". Tears roll down her cheecks as she tries to remember why they ended up this way. Was it destiny or fate that they had to meet now?

As she speaks up, the train which for a while had be at a halt, slowly starts to move.

>>

“I was asked by the Panchayat to leave the village. They said they’d manage by saying I’d drowned. Everyone was led into believing I was drowned. I went to the towns, so no one would recognise me. My family disowned me. I struggled to live. Anyway, it’s all made me too immune. Life being a struggle is passé to me! I’ve learnt it the hard, cold and sharp way.”

“But Madhu, you could have written to me…”

“It’s all over between us Mani. You are now Rupak. I am now Mita. We couldn’t possibly….”
Train no where in sight.

>>

He was jolted into consciousness.

Somebody had yanked the chain.
Some talked of escape. Some, of someone jumping the train.
Others of how this someone had failed.

What?
Alarms rang in his head. Madhu!

Breathe! He commanded his senses.
She wouldn’t. Perhaps she went to the toilet, he reasoned.

He took out a checkered handkerchief from his breast pocket, delicately took off his glasses, and wiped his forehead.

Down, he saw the book lying on the floor.
He shook his head in disbelief.
He got off his seat, onto his haunches and looked for his pen.

>>

He could not find his pen and neither could he find peace.

A reassuring yes is all he was looking for…..Alas! ‘twas still coming.

Then he turned his attention towards the book and what he read was not immensely satisfying. This made him think of what he had seen….how can this happen? Perhaps I am overreacting or maybe not…

He saw the old lady sleeping in peace and thoughts of Munni comforted him, only for a while though. All the chit chatter made no difference to him and hence he decided that he needed to do something.

He rushed towards the door and saw a crowd which made him fear the worst. Delightfully, the outlook of the gathering was not serious enough to make him feel jittery, but he still needed to find someone, he lit up a cigarette and started gazing at the moon

>>

He paused for a moment. Closed his eyes and blew out a stream of smoke.

He had start smoking when Meenakshi had passed away. Anything to ease the pain he had thought. The melancholic tale of the lonely heart is one which repeats itself much too often. He still wondered how he made it through those days. Those terrible days that had sequestered him, from which no one thought he would ever recover. But he did.

“Papa…” He heard Munni’s voice in his head. That one word was perhaps the only reason he was still alive.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a cold night and the cigarette was quite comforting. He kept staring at the moon through the train door. The moon! It brought back old memories.

How could he ever forget those sweet nights spent with his wife? They used to stare at the moon for hours. It was during one such cold night that he had told Meenakshi about a story from his past. He had told her about Madhu. She had cried like a child after knowing about the ill-fated end of their love story and had given him the warmest hug in this world.

He never ever missed Madhu after that night.

“Where are you lost?” a feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whilst his brain was thinking about where he would be twenty four hours later, his heart was still at, "Madhu .. twelve years... where was she... What was she doing?"

"Where are you lost?" - It was the old lady talking to a young girl.
"Help me please. That man is coming after me... Bhaiyya... please... If he sees me he will take me back"

Rupak (Mani) said, "Calm down.. who are you? why are are alone here..."
"I am Divya, I was with my friend, ... we escaped from Bombay this night. This fellow has come after me"

A tall man was nearing them.

Rupak reacted fast, "K... calm... take this blanket and lie down on my lap. You are my sister now.. remember!"

That tall man showed a photo, "Did you see her?"

Rupak was shocked a moment. It was not Divya. It was Madhu's. "N...No!"
He walked away murmuring, "I find her and thats her end."

Divya got up, "Thank you Bhaiyya"
"Where did you escape from?"
"....... We were sold to a pros..."
"What is the name of your friend?"
"Mita... Madhumita"
He said to himself, "So she hid herself... So she jumped out!! You could have told me dear"


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag

This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows:


1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time
2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended.
3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence
or so)
4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author
5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch
7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers.
8. If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded
10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).



I have requested Mr.Prabu Karthik, Mr.Vatsan, and HorryGlorry to continue

Waiting for your continuations...

Cricket... For Cricket Lovers Only

My Short Stories


The Sun’s heat was beginning to torment me. But more painful was the situation, the match was placed in at that moment. I have been a lover of cricket ever since I knew what was happening was around me… ever since the first words came out of my mouth… ever since I made the first attempt to walk. Today is a match of my lifetime… I have waited for years to watch such a match…
India playing against Pakistan after twenty years on Indian Soil. The truth is “what you call patriotism” sometimes addles you. It is that which changes you from a “cricket lover” to an “Indian Cricket Lover”. This transition tends to change a few things at the bottom of the heart. That is why the heart becomes heavy when Pakistan sets a massive target of three hundred and twenty runs for the hosts on such a historical match. If alone the Indian Batsmen had not started as they had done three hours ago, I am pretty sure that the Eden Gardens would have shown its own way of appreciating the guests. The typical Indian downfall started only after the second ball of the twentieth over. Surprisingly, the task of resurrection was taken up by the captain himself. It looked as if he had to lead the team to victory (if it was really possible) single handedly. Now the match has come to its end. One over to go and ten runs needed, with only one wicket in hand. Can the skipper finish it off? Just as it was the case in my mind, tension was building all over the crowd. There was absolute silence. The first ball was a single to give the strike to the skipper. The audience gave a roar the next ball when the ball was despatched to the fence. One more boundary for a tie. Can he do it?? He knew that it was he who must do it. The captain could feel the pressure under his belt as the speedster started his run-up. “Howwzzaaat?” At first it felt as if the Captain had reached the height of confidence and hence he just could not get out. But, a second thought said that the call was a close one… a very close call… very very close. What if India loses this historic match? The captain would be blamed as if he were the sole reason for the loss. What would we, the people of this country feel on losing such a match? Wont we feel ashamed to lose one of our arch rivals on our own soil?? And remember we are at the Eden Gardens… can you just imagine what would happen at the stadium… the immediate reaction from the crowd?? Yet, I felt something more was important. I raised my right hand index finger above my head.

Once Upon A Time In India...

My Short Stories

The sun had set in the village. The bellman sounded and announced something in the native language of the villagers. As he passed by the bushes he could hear a few men talking. Yet he went silently. A voice was heard, “Siva!!” “I too heard” “What are our next plans?” “Let us wait for the rest to come. I think they will be soon here.” They waited for another ten minutes and there came more persons. They quickly went into a hut. Jeevan shouted, “We must put an end to these atrocities. At least if not completely but for a while.” Saleem said, “The Mughal Emperor has been exiled and his two sons have been -- damn it.” Immediately, they murmured something and finally Saleem spoke, “Siva, we bomb the carriage tomorrow.” They dispersed.
The next morning in the British Bungalow the clock sounded 7.00 AM. There came a person in his long, blue nightgown. He had whitish hair and a shiny, rosy skin. He shouted, “Hey!” Immediately three servants stood before him. “Sir…” He spoke in a half-awaken tone, “Did you announce the fate of Bahadur Shah last night?” “Yesss Sir...” He then shouted, “Vincent.” His son did not turn up. He slowly walked to take his bath. He came out and asked, “What’s today’s meal – Indian or --?” “Sir, Today I have cooked your favourite non vegetarian dishes.” He started to have his meals. He tasted it heartily and congratulated the cook, “Extra ordinary.” He left the place and said to his driver and spoke, “I feel I would like to drive the cart myself...” “But Sir...” “What buts…?” “No nothing. Nothing Sir.” He then walked towards his cart. At the door, he could see his board, “General Clammedore” hanging upside down. He set it right at once and again called his driver, “Ram You better drive the cart.” He went inside his bungalow, drank a cup of water and came out. Then both set out on the chariot.
About fifteen minutes they should have travelled when Ram spoke, “Sir, I feel ...I feel there is some danger for you.” “I knew it. So long as you Indians play a double game, this country is at our disposal.” Ram kept quiet. “Well, What’s that?” But Ram had no time to speak. Almost immediately a knife from nowhere pierced into the heartless chest of Ram and he fell on the ground. Clammedore having understood that something strange was going to happen jumped out of the carriage. Immediately, his carriage was bombed, yet he survived. His carriage flew into the air to a height of about 10 metres and Clammedore’s eyes were anchored to it. Immediately he called his soldiers and asked them to round up the village. But both Saleem and Siva had escaped.
Clammedore quickly went back to his palace and came out with his huge rifle. He spoke at the top of his voice, “You bloody Idiots!! I give your men ten minutes time. The plotters are to be here now or else you know what I would do.” He then started counting on his watch – one, two, three and so on till ten. Nobody turned up. Clammedore again shouted, “Well, nobody’s come. I said I would do that. Guards!! Bring the youngest man out of every house and arrange them here. The whole village is going to watch me shoot them. When the first door was opened by one of his guards, a knife thrown had cut his thumb. Soon they could see the origin of the knife. There stood Saleem in the bravest fashion.
He immediately drew another knife and this time he targeted it at Clammedore. But Clammedore could notice him and he dodged the knife. A rope was thrown over Saleem’s neck and he fell to the ground.



Soon the rope was cut by the shot of a rifle and a voice was heard, “Saleem run…” It was Siva. But Saleem could not. He was on all sides surrounded by the British. Clammedore shouted, “Shit, It’s Shiva again. Catch him!!” Saleem hoped that Siva would manage to escape but soon both stood as captives in front of Clammedore.
He spoke, “How dare you do this non sense? For the past three months I have been noticing your actions. Do you really want to exhibit your bravery? Let us see now. Display your skills now. You are tied and surrounded by your enemies. Try to escape. I know – It is not possible for you to do that.” Both Saleem and Siva stood erect facing the sun. “What the hell you do? Can’t you open your ugly mouths? If you don’t speak now you will not have a chance to do it after. My sword will have to peep into your eyes then.” When he was about to draw his sword he heard Siva, “Saleem, Do you think we must talk to these cowards?” Saleem replied, “I don’t think we really need to. Lets rather lose our eyes—is it not?”
Clammedore continued, “Cowards --- You call the British cowards?!? Don’t think too much of yourselves. Today is the last day of your life and you will return back to the soils. Why do you waste your time in speaking of cowardice and bravery?” His voice softened, “I give a final chance. Serve us. Join the British army.” Both remained silent. Their legs did not move. Their hands were still. They stood like statues.
It was then Clammedore realised that there was no use in talking to these people. “Get ready to hang these two.” He then turned towards Siva, “Okay!! The last chance. State your last wish. Normally we don’t ask these things but remember you are special to me.”
Even then both stood still. Clammedore spoke, “And once again no talks…And I think your father is going to face the same situation that your Mughal Emperor faced three days ago. You know what happened?” As he spoke his face started to smile which slowly turned into a wild laughter. “When he wanted to see his sons before exile – you know what we did – we gave him the heads of his sons. You must have seen him cry…That bloody…” His wild laughter echoed throughout the village that stood watching the scene in silence. “The Mughal Emperor ….his two sons…heads...ha ha!!”
But slowly, there were two other voices laughing along with that if Clammedore’s. He was shocked. His eyes slowly changed and he asked in a really serious tone, “Why … Why do you both laugh…?”
Siva spoke, “Well, instead do you want us cry for what has happened…?” Clammedore could not understand what he spoke. “What … What happened?”
Siva continued to laugh, “Ha…Ha…Saleem I am really unable to control my laughter. You better recite him.”
It was Saleem’s turn. “Our Emperor, at least he took his son’s heads with great grief!! But you…” Siva continued, “None in this world… Nobody other than you can really enjoy his own son’s heart for a good meal.”
As both of them stood laughing, a scream was heard “Vincent”. Bullets pierced through their hearts and they fell on the ground.

This Is What I Call Love

My Short Stories


Four years abroad were just like being at hell without seeing her. When I last met her, she was as beautiful as ever with a little sorrow at her heart. Even at that time, I knew that she had been engaged. I could not prevent it. I could read her mind then, she had not given her consent deliberately. She was forced to do so -- I am really unable to think of those things - that past. I knew in another hour, I would see her. Hope she has not changed her home. She had mailed me her marriage invitation which contained her address – in fact her husband's. I can not imagine how exactly I felt when I received that mail. Thought I had a strong heart..!! But...!!
Might be she has a child or two now. As I had expected, in about 45 minutes I reached the city. I called for an auto. The auto man had no trouble in taking me to that place. It was a very big house. I walked along the lawn and I knocked the door. Soon it was opened by a small girl – probably three years old. She was wearing a jacket and a skirt sort of a thing. She looked at me from top to bottom. “Whom do you want?” I suddenly had a doubt. I looked on my sides to find a name board. I confirmed that I was in the right place. I replied, “Can I see Nivedha?” “Excuse me – Mr. – She is my mom and I can not stand anybody disrespect her.!”
These words struck my heart like an arrow. “Excuse me – Mr. - Prof. Menon is our Professor and I can not stand anybody disrespect him.” “I am terribly sorry Nivedha”
“E…Excuse Mmmr!!” “Sorry again – Ms.Nivedha” “That’s better Mr. Siva” How can I ever forge those first words with her!
“I am terribly sorry Ms….” “Sivaranjani” “Can I see Mrs. Nivedha?” “That’s better. Please come in.” She ran off into the house. Yet I could hear her, “Mom! Some guy’s come looking for you…” It was then I heard her voice. “How does he look like? Did you ask his name?” “Oh…I forgot” Again the girl reappeared. But this time her mother followed her. It seemed to me as if she was busy at her work. Before looking at me she wiped her face with her hands and checked her face in the mirror, set her kumkum right and then raised her eyes at me.
“What’s your name?” But Nivedha replied her question looking at me, “Ranjani, get in. I know him.” Our eyes were fixed. Then Ranjani again starred at me from top to bottom and ran into a room. It was me to speak first, “H…How are you?” “Fine...” She asked me to sit on a chair. I took that seat. She asked me the same question. I gave her the same answer. “Where’s your husband?” “H... He’s gone to work. You have not seen him right? He’s right behind you – I mean his photograph.” I turned back. There was a single wallpaper – a photograph of Nivedha and her husband. Even the hall was full of small photos of the family. “Neatly maintained”, I remarked. “That’s my job – it can’t be otherwise just because I have been with you for a very long time. I should have mastered atleast some of your special arts.
I thought of telling her, “I still love you and nobody can really stop me from doing that.” But I could not do that. I knew her very well. She would not … Yet she would not have, indeed could not have thrown me out of her heart.
“Just a minute, let me bring you your favourite drink – dry coffee. You should not have been able to get that in America.” She was right. She disappeared into the kitchen and Ranjani reappeared with a photograph in her hand. She was silent first and then she whispered something into my ears, “Are you Mr.Siva?” “Yes!” “Please come with me” She led me into the inner most sanctum of that home and then gave to me a paper- a letter.
“My papa had told me that you would definitely come here one day and he had asked me to give this to you. Mom does not know about this. So please keep this a secret.”
I got that letter from her and started reading it in my mind.

“Hi Siva,
Think you know me. And I know very well about you. Nivedha has told me everything. I still have guilty feeling that I have taken something of yours away from you. I really don’t know if I will be able to meet you in person and apologise for that. That’s why I am writing this for you. My daughter is quite matured and clever you know – just like Nivedha! Think she should do this perfectly – I have given her your photograph. Nivedha has become a part of my family and it’s my duty to look after her. But I pretty well know that I won’t live long enough to do that to perfection . You see I need your help. I think you understand what I mean. She is yours. She needs someone after me and it would be the best if that someone is you –the one who has carved a temple in her heart. So please…
Sorrily
Shravan.”

Should all this happen to my Nivedha? She must have belonged to me. Tears flowed down my eyes. I turned back and there she was standing looking at the paper in my hand. There was no need of any explanation. She understood that I had become aware of the fact that her husband had died. She knew what I had in my mind. We walked together to the hall. She was the first to speak, “Siva…You see …don’t ask me to do that alone. I am prepared to do anything for you. But not that…” I really understood what she really meant by “that”. “But is it not my responsibility to…” “Who said no – I pretty well know that you still love me …Come and see me and my child often – help us however you can – nobody’s going to stop you.” “But…?” “What But…? Have you ever thought of your marriage??” It was true. I had decided to marry never again. Again?? She continued, “Why don’t you try leading a normal life?” “But without…” “Without me…OK! Suggest something… except “that”” Something struck my head. I would be the most pleased one if I had her near me always. So I said, “I’ll do what you say…but you must live next to my door always…under my..” “Yes I understand…Do you mean you shall marry some one if I agree to this” With some disagreement, I said, “Yes” “OK! I am ready” That was it. She had achieved what she wanted- which really looked impossible a few moments ago…!!
Should all this happen to my Nivedha? Tears flowed down my eyes. I turned back to check if she was not watching me. I just remembered our conversation…- her reply to my question about her husband – how she said me to look behind. How she looked into the mirror as soon as she came out of the kitchen! How great her husband must have been to replace my position in her heart. Really great – the letter – a solid evidence for that. I pocketed it and walked to the hall. I started looking at those pictures carefully. By that time she had brought me my favourite drink. Several thoughts ran through my mind as I drank that coffee. She spoke, “Shravan used to say that he wanted to see you. He will be very much pleased when I tell him that you had come here to see me. Can you really wait till…?” I listened to her carefully looking at those photographs. They could really explain me something that even Nivedha could not have – “How much she loved her husband!” I had carved a temple in her heart but how can I describe what he had done… Indeed he had not died. He was living right there in that place along with his beloved wife and cute daughter. And I could notice that she saw her husband everywhere in that home. She was leading a peaceful life with her husband there. I did not want to disturb that life of hers. I did not want to disturb her happiness in such a life. I kissed Ranjani on her forehead and bade good bye to them forever.

FROM MY ALBUM - My first short story

My Short Stories


I remember very well, that day we were returning from Delhi. It was around eight years ago and our school had taken five of us to take a part in a Television Programme and we were returning to Madurai. It was 10.00 PM and the Tamilnadu Express was to leave from the New Delhi Railway station. There were two teachers with us and we were all sitting inside the compartment. They had allotted us seven seats and the window next to me was vacant. The train had whistled and that concerned person had not come. I went out and looked at he passenger’s list. Mr.David, it read a Christian. Before I could read the other details the train started moving and do I came back and took my seat.

Before the train could leave the platform, there rushed in a man, climbing the stairs of the running train. He had a single bag, which we saw first. We thought he would be a young man of thirty-five. He came in and directly occupied his seat. To our surprise, he was quite old on a closer look and we expected him to be in the nineties. Yet he was quite brisk. He had silvery hair that had bit of shine, pus and downs on his skins. Still his eyes were sharp. He spoke not a word. Probably, his age did not allow him to speak properly. As it was already 10.30, our teacher switched off the lights and we were forced to sleep.

The next morning I woke up. The sun was faster – I thought. It was shining. I looked on to my watch – it read 10.00. Then I realised that it was I who was slow. All my friends were already awake and surprisingly that “thatta” was sitting over the top and meditating. Immediately Priya came and told me that he had been sitting like that for about 3 hours. I told her to watch him and I went to brush my teeth. When I came back he was sitting on his seat munching something. Priya and Raghu told me he had just come down, ordered coffee and started munching chips. We had great doubts in our mind about that silent man. We were actually so young at that time that these doubts of us went beyond imagination. Who was he? Why was he silent? Was he spying on someone? Then Raghu suggested that David might not even be his real name. It was at that time that Priya gave an excellent idea to divert his concentration. She murmured something in our ears and we acted accordingly. She started speaking about our friend David, in a higher tone. He had not accompanied us in that tour. We expected him to glance at us if he was really David. But he did not. Priya then gave an I-told- you- know-sort of expression. One hour passed.

Our teacher called all of us and she announced that she was going to conduct a quiz. We liked quizzes and we quickly got ready. That “thatta” took a huge book and started reading. The quiz commenced and the teachers were the quizmasters.

Questioning started and we were answering them well. Priya was extremely good at quiz. She answered almost all questions. I kept listening to her amazing answers. A new round started and each of us were asked to select a personality on whom our teacher would pose us questions. I chose Mahatma Gandhi and answered three out of five questions. Raghu chose Abraham Lincoln and answered four questions. While Priya was answering that “thatta” closed his book and started starring at her.

After the questions were over, he spoke in a highly dignified language, “How, even at his small age, you know about Hitler and his deeds?” Immediately I answered, “She is actually very good at General Knowledge. I too know a bit about Hitler and the help he had rendered to the INA” Raghu murmured in my ears, “How can this old fellow know about wars and other things. I don’t think that he knows what INA could mean. If at all he knows something that can be about using a plough.” I told him to keep quiet. And slowly our talks went deeper. Definitely Priya knew more than what I knew. At one stage what all I could do was keep listening to what they spoke. What all I could understand was some stuff about India and its freedom struggle. Then suddenly he talked about the present India and how bad the situation was. Priya started suggesting what somebody could do to help the country improve. He then advised us on how we must act as future citizens of India. From our talks I started wondering how he could be so brisk and energetic at that age. I could really understand that he was enjoying her speech. I looked at the watch. It was just 12.00. I asked him, “Sir, are you travelling till Chennai?” He replied, “No. I must get down at Bhopal.”

He continued and we listened to him carefully. Our teachers were asleep while this man gave us a good company. I then asked Priya, “After Hitler was defeated, what happened to the INA?” She replied, “Well, Netaji tried to get help from Japan, but it is said that he died there in an air crash. But his body was not found.” He then said, “You know something!! If anybody is not found for seven years, then he is declared to be dead.” I suddenly noticed a change in Priya’s eyes.

The train slowed down. He said, “Bhopal has arrived. I must leave. Thanks for the company.” Priya asked to my ears, “Hey! Do you have film rolls left?” Before I could reply “No” to her, he said, “Why photographs when he have talked a great deal!!” He starred at her. He remained silent for a moment. The station arrived and the train stopped. He got down with his two bags and we too got down. He turned and looked at us. Then he started moving away from us. It was at that time I realised that we had forgotten to ask what his name was. I cried out of curiosity to know who he was – “Sir…Sir…” Priya remained silent just starring at him. We could feel that he heard us, yet he walked.

The train whistled and we got into our compartment. Priya shouted, “Hey! Shank!! You can see a paper on his seat. We three rushed and opened it. It was a letter addressed to us.

Dear kids,
Please burn this paper once you read it. I can see in you the future citizens of this country. This country should not be ruined by petty things. The freedom that we had obtained from the British by shedding our blood is so valuable that…we cannot afford to lose it. I know very well. There are lots of people still in this country who are ready to give me blood for freedom if I ask. But what we need is a proper guide whom I can see in you. Take care. Best of luck.

Beneath was a signature that was scribbled so fast that I could not read. But Priya could. “My God!!” she exclaimed. It took a little time for me to realise what had just happened. We immediately looked out of the window, but he was out of sight.

Priya still has that golden bit signed by him as a memorable gift.

Is Man Greedy ??

Is this philosophy ??

Note:
I have used the word “greedy” in a completely different sense here.

Has man ever been contented with his possessions?

If your answer is yes… then I would like to have a short argument. I don’t think that even a sage is really so. He wants more of philosophy into his life. One, who claims that he has surrendered himself to God, wants to praise God more and more. If we were really contented, then we would have really stopped all researches, for all such things are going on so that we may lead a better life. If we are happy with the current life, why a better life?

If no, why is it so? I fear that I might not be able to give an answer to this question even at the end of this passage. Even from the periods of Primitive man, man’s search has been endless. Starting to work with wood, he has today ended up with great technology. Today, he is marching towards yet another great field which he calls as “Artificial Intelligence”.

Is he really trying to shake the very foundation of all creations – “Man can only think”?

My answer to this question would really be, “Not exactly!!” Man always takes care that he has complete control over the thinking of whatever he creates or he intends to create. So, man always tries to play safe. If there comes one day on which he loses control over his creations, he very well knows that may be the first step towards the end of humanity. There is no problem for humanity so long as this thought is strongly rooted in man’s heart.

But, let us go back a few steps. Why is it that he never stops working? We shall be able to understand the truth after a few quick thoughts. The truth is Man would perish the moment he stops thinking and decides, “This is enough for my life” and the most interesting fact is that man realised this fact long back. That is why he constantly tries to better existing things. There is never going to be a full stop for this process.

Man has realised that humanity is going to perish one day definitely and it is going to happen by either one of these ways.

Man being greedy to create better and better things to finally lose control over them.

Man stops thinking and stays idle.

Interestingly, man does not prefer to commit "direct" suicide and die soon.

He prefers to remain greedy throughout his life.


Historical Novels and History

Thamizh Varalaaru


Can we know history by just reading historical novels??

If we read “Ponniyin Selvan”, undoubtedly the best historical novel, can we know about the Chozha history?

Or if you read “Kadal Pura”, you are going to know everything about Kulothungan… who destroyed the entire territory of Kalinga. If you know a little more about this novel, this is supposed to be a prequel to “Kalingathu Bharani”, a masterpiece of Tamizh Literature. The hero of “Kadal Pura” is “Karunaakara Pallavan” who is portrayed just as his name suggests in this novel. But if you read “Kalingathu Bharani”, where Karunaakara Pallavan destroys Kalinga under the orders of Kulothungan, he is portrayed as something just short of a merciless creature. At this point, the author of the novel “Kadal Pura” must be given due credit, just because of his treatment of the character. You can really enjoy the irony if you read them both. But which is true??

Did Vandhiyadhevan exist at all in history??

Actually this is debatable even today. Just login to this yahoo group “ponniyinselvan” and you will get surprising results with proper arguments.

If alone Kalki had not written in his “mudivurai”, that in an inscription of Tanjore, there is a writing which calls Kundhavai as Vanthiyadhevan’s wife, I would have never even thought that such a character really existed. Actually, this is a great attempt by Kalki, to give maximum importance to a character that he really believed to exist.

But in most of the novels of Chandilyan, he plays safe, by choosing imaginary characters as heroes (but for Kadal Pura, which is debatably (Yavana Rani) his best). These imaginary characters lead the well known king’s army from the front. Though from one point of view this appears to be clever, from an other point it seems to be “there is no other go than this”.

Most of his novels have miracles – why MOST, I would say ALL!!

Readers might say this is a too much “hero-worship” and such stuff.

But if you attempt at reading the original history, miracles would have indeed happened.

For example, let me consider the case of Rajamuthirai. This story deals with the feuds between the cheras and the chozhas. You read the novel, and then you would just come up with a remark, “What is all this hero worship and stuff?” for the hero’s deeds would just be out of your bounds of imagination. The way he conquers a fort and sets up a scene as if he was captured is really what I call hero-worship. Then he invites a bigger army into the fort that was under his control and defeats that army also. Well… you might also end up saying that all this looks artificial.

Now, let me move on to a different topic, from Historical Novels to the real History. Chandilyan himself clearly gives references from various historical writings where in that particular fort was captured by the Chozhas, with a meagre army of about 4000 people fighting against an army of 10000 people in a huge fort. Well, would not you call this a miracle …? I definitely would, assuming that the historians are not wrong. The author just uses his hero as a weapon to convey this fact. Though he admits that his hero is a fictional character, for the miracle to have taken place, there should have really been leaders of that calibre. What matters is just the name…

Even consider the best historical novel ever written … Ponniyin Selvan… Consider this character Azhwarkkadiyaan Nambi alias Thirumalai. I really don’t think such a character existed, so I think it should have been for Kalki. Kalki gives proofs for the existence of Anirudhdhar, by indicating some inscriptions discovered about 120 years ago. But most of us know how great both these characters are. The latter knows everything going on in the Chozha Kingdom. So is this spy called Thirumalai.

There is one particular in which Vandhiyadhevan murmurs, “Naan panjathukku ottran polum. Avan parambarai ottran polum”

(If you are unable to figure out facts and fiction separately from this novel, then it is not all your inefficiency. It is just the greatness of this author. This would really be impossible unless you are a historian.)

Thirumalai might not have been a spy at all in reality. Anirudhdhar might have been the laziest person ever born in this world in reality. How am I supposed to believe whatever Kalki has written?

What I am trying to say is there really should have been such characters in history for miracles have happened in history. Just their names might have been different… might have been Shankar or even Narayan.

In Sivagaamiyin Sabatham, Kalki makes special reference to the origin of the pallavas, wherein he describes the dispute among the historians. In such cases of disputes, it is always interesting to know all the arguments. It may even happen that we might not be able to arrive at strong conclusions. Yet there will be a satisfaction at heart. As far as these pallavas are concerned I think Kalki strongly disagrees with the Europeans who consider that Pallavas are of non-Indian origin and I actually go with Kalki, just because I can’t imagine the other side of it. A few historians even suggest that they might even be an offshoot of the pretty famous Chozha kings. But it is pretty clear that thamizh was not the main language during their reign.

We must just appreciate these historical authors who try to “cook-up” a story from a few known facts, and make reading an interesting process besides telling us what might have really happened in the past.

May be, when Raja raja was crowned king, a person from 2100 might have attended the function. If that were the case, then by 2100 time travel would really become possible and all intricacies can be explained…

Karikaalan

Thamizh Varalaaru

One of the firsts to bring pride to the Chozha Dynasty was Karikaalan.

There is a very famous song in The Tamizh Film Industry which contains the line

“Karikaalan kattivaithaan kallanai”

Such is the greatness of Karikaalan.

Very few know what his real name was.

Few sources suggest that it could be “Thirumaavalavan”.

It actually happened that his father, Ilanjetchenni was burnt in his own palace by his relatives and his son was taken to a different palace where he was also set fire. But, Thirumaavalavan managed to escape from the burning palace, but got his leg burnt. That why he got is name.

He had to run into the forests for life. His Chozha Kingdom was taken away by his father’s relatives, who now were his enemies. With the help of his uncle, he secured his kingdom back and ruled.

Even centuries later, when the Chozha dynasties reached unbelievable heights under the reign of Rajaraajan and Rajendran, Karikaalan were considered to be their godfathers.

Only the later Chozhas had “Thanjaavur” and “Pazhaiyaarai” as their capital. Karikaalan’s capital was Poompuhar. Poompuhar was one of the then most important ports of Tamilnadu.

The famous Silappadhigaaram, one of the “Aimperum Kaappiyangal” has one of its parts in Poompuhar. Every year, there used to be a chariot race in the days of Ilanjetchenni whose chariot is well known and Ilanjetchenni himself was a great charioteer who would drive his horses at a very high speed with amazing control.

During the reign of Karikaalan, there were invasions from the west, especially from Greece, and they were driven out of the country by the king.

About a century after the rule of Karikaalan, the Chozhas lost complete control of Tamilnadu to the Pallavas, whose origin is till date debatable.

The Pallavas took Tamilnadu to the next stages of development till Aparaajidhavarman finally lost to Vijayaalaya Chozhan and his son.

The great novelist, Chandilyan, in his “Yavana Raani” creates a fictional story out of available historical details in which he describes the way how, Karikaalan got back his kingdom.

Thamizh History I

Thamizh Varalaaru

Yaam arindha mozhigalail thamizhae iniyadhu...
Yaam arindha sarithirangalil tamizh sarithiramey sirandhadhu, vaseegaramaanathu...

Here I write about the famous history of Tamizh Nadu..
I start off with the Chozhas...
First comes the famous Karikaalan..

Newton and His laws

Shankar On Science

Why is Newton the father of physics??
What great jobs did he do so as to call him so??

If you read the book by Stephen Hawking... A Brief History of Time...where in he writes in about two pages about every scientist...when he writes about Isaac.

He starts,
Isaac Newton was not a pleasant man. His relations with other academics were notorious, with most of his later life spent embroiled in heated disputes...

He goes describing the problems that existed between Isaac and Flamsteed (an astronomer), the famous Gottfried Leibniz (a German philosopher)

Following the death of Leibniz, Newton is reported to have declared that he had great satisfaction in "breaking Leibniz' heart"

He concludes, "With the lucrative post of The Warden of the royal mint, he used his talents for deviousness and vitriol in a more socially acceptable way, successfully conducting a campaign against counterfeiting, even sending several men to their death on their gallows..."


Should such a person be called as "The father of Physics”??
Should not "the Father of Physics" have some basic Morale...??

Even centuries later, we still continue to call him the father of physics... Why??

What did he do after all??
Three laws about something called "Force" ... which he himself created.
Then additional statements on "this thing" that he himself had created.

Does he deserve to be called so??
Are his laws really that great...??

Well, actually they are!!
Now let me try to give a closer view of his three laws....

The First one
==========

Every object continues to be in its state of rest or of uniform motion till disturbed by an external Agency.

The meaning of this thing is clear… is it not??
Why should this thing be stated as a law…??
Well… is it not obvious??
Now, let me take you four centuries back…


I take a ball and roll it on a floor.
It starts moving with uniform velocity and slowly the velocity decreases and eventually it stops moving.

I question you, “Can you see… my law is not obvious. Where can you see this in reality?”

(If I had questioned you, “Why does this stop? Is it not against my law?” our discussion would not have continued, but stopped at some place…

You would have said, “This is called friction”
I would have said, “My dear, I know what is distance, time, mass, velocity, temperature, momentum, etc…
I have never word this word in my entire life…”

Actually these quantities were defined earlier, but this “friction” thing … nobody knew that something existed of that sort.)



I repeat, “Can you see… my law is not obvious. Where can you see this in reality?”

Some philosopher comes up with a new theory and says, “Anything is this material world is opposed by something else… So the road does not allow your ball to move”

Then I say, “Ok… let me try to reduce the opposition offered. I go and polish the road. Now, the ball comes to a stop after a greater deal of time. Next, I use a glass road and see the time increasing.”

So, when will the ball never stop…??
I go to my dream and ask God to construct a road which can offer no resistance.
Then I roll a ball and see that it never stops…


Who is a physicist? One who sits in a laboratory and does tests and tries to come to conclusions… definitely not…
Anybody can become a physicist if he/she can see beyond what others see…
Newton was…
This first law is actually my most favourite among all Physics laws…
It requires more than a genius to imagine such things…



Now, the Second Law
================

Even now, many X class students ask me, how did the proportionality constant, k, in

F= kma

Becomes unity and the equation simplifies to F=ma

This is a simple issue, but the second law has more to say.

The first law states clearly that there is some resistance. Newton calls this resistance, as Force. As I have stated earlier, nobody then knew what Force meant. So, it was Newton to explain what this word meant. The first law is a quantitative definition of Force. So, the second law must be the quantitative definition.

Force directly varies as rate of change of momentum.

What is momentum? Product of mass and velocity … is that it??
As we have a feel for masses, lengths, so we must have a feel for this quantity also.

Imagine that you are walking right in the middle of the road; a cyclist riding at his maximum speed comes and hits you and stops because of the impact. You get up with a few bruises on your head and curse that fellow.

Now, again imagine that you are walking right in the middle of the road; a heavy truck is heading towards you. He sees you, reduces the speed and still manages to hit you and stops because of the impact. You fall on the ground, your head might bleed and you are taken to the hospital and again finally end up cursing that driver.

For the last time (after this you would not be alive), imagine you are walking right in the middle of the road; a heavy truck is heading towards you. He does not care to decelerate and hits you and stops because of the impact. You would not be alive to curse him!!

That’s momentum for you. I think you would not start off an argument with me if I term this momentum thing as “quantity of motion possessed by the object”

Now, again go back to the Second Law…
Over what time interval is this impact …??
Again as it was with the First Law, this too becomes obvious… is it not??

This gives a quantitative definition for force.
Coming to the “k” issue… As I had said earlier, it was Newton who had the task of defining what Force meant.
IT WAS HIS CHOICE TO TELL WHAT 1 UNIT OF FORCE WAS.
He could have very well told, 1 unit of force is what is required to accelerate steadily a body of mass 16.123556434 kg (this was already defined) through a distance of 12.684638 m (so was this unit) in one leap year (so was this) from rest. Then the constant would have taken an ugly value.

As it was his choice, he chooses to be simple.
Accelerate steadily an object mass 1 kg through 0.5 metre in 1 second so that the acceleration amounts to 1 metre per second squared. The value “unity” has a beauty in itself… is it not??


Now, if we consider the Gravitational law, all quantities were defined already. So, the quantity G takes an ugly value, indeed!!


Now finally,
The Third Law

Every force has always an equal and opposite reaction.

While the first gave a quantitative definition, the second a quantitative definition, what extra information does this give??

Now, let us recall the philosopher who had contacted us a little before….
This also becomes clear…

This explains us that forces always exist in pairs.

Please note that a force and its reaction never act on the same body.
If anywhere you read that centrifugal and centripetal forces form an action-reaction pair, then you can curse that book as they both act on the same body.
(I have read books which give such an impression.)


Why would not you call a person who has given three ingenious laws to the world of Physics as its father??

Even Stephen Hawking says, his book Principia Mathematica is the most influential book EVER written in physics

In my opinion, even for his first law, he deserves to be called so. I repeat-it requires much much much more than a genius to make such a statement.

Ghajini Movie Review

Reviews


Released on 29 September 2005


The Director of Dheena and Ramana, AR Murugadoss, strikes after about a gap of three years with Ghajini with Surya and Asin in the lead. After great expectations, the movie is finally released. Has it satisfied the expectations … a straight NO…

Surya, Sanjay Ramasamy plays the role of the Managing Director of “Air Voice”, a Cell Phone company. Asin, Kalpana plays a model for a mini advertisement company. Nayantara is also there to add to the glamour. She plays a medical college student.

To cut it short, Sanjay and Kalpana fall in love with each other. Kalpana earns enemies during her mission of saving anonymous girls from being sold in the Bombay Market. The villains decide to murder Kalpana and after a good thrilling chase and fight back from Sanjay, it is done. Sanjay is hit on his head and he is hospitalised while Kalpana is dead.

Asin has played her part beautifully...
Be it when Sanjay proposes, be it when she plays her pranks or when she is chased by the villains...
Finally.. she has started to show signs of acting...

Short term memory loss … inspired from the English movie MEMENTO, has been employed skilfully by the director. Sanjay forgets everything but the night of that incident. With the help of this medical college student, he traces the one who had murdered his wife. The villain calls his brother for help. Surprisingly, the Villain, Pradeep Singh Chaavat, plays a double role. Finally, Sanjay ends up murdering both.

Surya, as Sanjay has done his part well...

Nayantara.. I really feel she has to reduce her tummy....She looks damn ugly, especially when she dances with a shorts on stage...

Two tunes from Harris Jeyaraj are memorable…

Oru Maalai..

Suttrum Vizhi Chudarae..


The scenes which depict the love between Sanjay and Kalpana, create a good impression.