Summary of four months

         It's been hectic four months, not allowing me even to blog. Honestly, I am not being a prude here. I had to cover Commonwealth Games in Delhi, IPL auction besides a few Ranji Trophy matches involving Karnataka.

         The last four months gave me joy and disappointment in equal measures, and here I am mentioning only my professional life. While the opportunity to cover CWG opened my mind as a writer and widened my horizons, pardon me if I sound a bit cliched there, missing out on India's tour to South Africa in December was a massive disappointment. I was really keen on going to the Rainbow Nation, a place I never set my foot so far.

       But more than that, it was an opportunity to write a few good stories, do some interviews etc. Though it will remain a regret, I need to move on and forget the episode. Life is not known to give all that you want on a platter, isn't it?
     
       However, I was able to spent a week at home with parents and sister, making the beginning of 2011 a happy one. Now, there will be cricket World Cup and am marked to cover the Sri Lanka leg, though the final nod is yet to come. Hopefully, there will be some more positives for me as the year progresses, personally and professionally.

      So, waiting for some good things this year!

A week with parents

It surprised me pleasantly when dad and mom agreed to spent a week with us in Bangalore, a first in four years of my married life. 


All these days, they have to back out at the last moment after planning a trip to Bangalore, but this time it was not to be so. It was great to watch them enjoying different climate, food and the history of Karnataka, the home state of my wife. 


I am not venturing to give a day-to-day update of their visit since that could be very monotonous, rather I will dwell on the effect of them staying with us. Let me say that the whole week was an eye-opener, a mirror to what I have been missing in my life. 


You might earn in zillions, you might live in the poshest house, you might own a Ferrari, and you might have all the other tangible luxuries, but nothing can be compared to the affection of your parents. It is quite fascinating to get treated like a five-year old when I actually am a 35-year old. 


Even in her mid-sixties, my mother is still eager to cook a favourite dish of mine or offer me a four'o clock-snack, something I have forgotten over the years. Two years elder to my mom, father is still as much eager as he was nearly twenty years ago to give me a gift or offer me some money for my expense. 


Sometimes we all wish to get transported back to our childhood, and the last week probably I came closest to that. In my parents' eyes I might still be a young boy, perhaps I will be forever. 

A Trip With Super Star

    It was a few months ago on my trip back from Kochi that I had this totally unexpected but plesant opportunity to realise a dream. From the early 80s I have been a fan of Mohanlal, like scores of Keralites, and his easy-flowing method of acting, but I never had the chance to meet this wonderful talent.

   Lal's movies like Kireedom (Gardish in Hindi), Kilukkam, Rajavinte Makan, Irupatham Nootandu, Nadodikkattu, Pattana Pravesham, Thoovanathumbikal and Bharatham have been my all-time favourites. But again I was never able to meet him despite several tries through my friends, who are active in various branches of cinema.

   Once I came to know that Lal will be in Palakkad for shooting and the location was my friend's ancestral home! So, I thought time has come to meet Lal, only to know later that they had shifted the location to a different place due to some technical reason. Disappointment was massive.

   That was nearly 11 years ago, and finally I realised my ambition on a windy morning at the Bangalore International Airport. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw a familiar face standing next to me in the airport shuttle bus, clad in blue jeans and a grey shirt. It was the man whom I was dreaming to meet for so long and it took me some gingerly minutes to go up to him and introduce myself.

   But the three-time National award for best actor winning Super Star was polite and cordial as we chatted some time on various issues including his interest in buying an IPL team. Ultimately, Lal was not a part of the consortium that bought the Kochi IPL team, but hopefully he will be part of the team in some capacity that I can have further meetings with him.

   A few days later I happened to meet another Malayalam/Tamil actor Jayaram at the airport. The Rasikar Thilakam too was a cordial customer, but somehow it failed to create the impact of the meeting that I had with Mohanlal. Simple but radiating the man's humility and creative talent.

VIVA BRAZIL

Even the name Brazil has a magic to it, something exotic and it is esoteric and universal at the same time. There will be numerous other teams and numerous other players in World Cup 2010 in South Africa, but once the 'Yellow Canneries' touch the field all will be forgotten.

Agreed, this Brazilian side is not in the mould of their predecessors of 60s, 70s or 80s when Pele, Garrincha, Rivelino, Zico, and Socretes enthralled the world with pure wizardry. Those days, perhaps, beauty mattered slightly more to a Brazilian than victory. Still, they are the most successful country in the World Cup, winning five World Cups.

Now, under Dunga, Brazil has welded the traditional Latin American style with the element of power, once a facemark of the European teams. Now, you might trace only in patches the flow, natural touch and dazzling skills acquired from the streets of Rio de Janeiro that made Brazil a worldwide favorite, but the joy of watching them has not diminished one bit.

So, what seperates Brazilians from rest of the teams from Latin America, Europe, Asia, and Africa?

Football field is an arena for self expression for each Brazilian player and for their fans an altar to worship their heroes and a magical imaginarium that relieves them from worldly hazards, leaving the rest of the world in amazement over the unique union of the game, players and fans. That's something typical to Brazil's football as any other nation can't claim such a complete relation between the three segments.

It's that belief in each other makes them a treat to watch and perennial favourites in the biggest single-event sporting show on earth. And what are their chances in this edition of the World Cup then?

Without underestimating the abilities of Robinho, they might be slightly over-reliant on Kaka to score and create opportunities and they might miss the creativity of Ronaldinho, omitted by coach Dunga after a poor season with AC Milan.

Their forward-line may not have the firepower to intimidate the opponents with Manchester City player Robinho being their best bet. Nilmar (Inter Milan), Luis Fabiano (Sevilla) and Alexandre Pato (AC Milan) are greenhorns at the top level.

Midfield will revolve around Kaka while Anderson (Manchester United) and  Gilberto Silva (Panathinaikos) could be his trusted allies. Defence has always been the Achilles heel of Brazilian teams of the past. "Every Brazilian wants to score goal, so we don't have great defenders," former midfielder Rivaldo once offered the reason behind that traditional weakness.

However, this time they have a classy defence in Alex (Chelsea), Maicon (Inter Milan) and Lucio (Bayern Munich) and if they can blunt the rival sallies effectively then Brazil will be a very formidable opposition.

But the romantics will not see those obvious flaws, their eyes and heart will be on Brazil holding aloft that Hexa Cup. After all, what better way is there to welcome World Cup 2014 at home than being the defending champions?

A trip to Polonica!

I was waiting at the 'Dreams', a men's saloon, for my turn to come but like mist moves over a valley nostalgia surrounded my mind, reminding me of my first trip to a men's beauty saloon.

It was a summer day of 1995, and quite accidentally I saw the advertisement of a newly-opened men's saloon, Polonica at MG Road (Kochi), in a fashion magazine. Till then I was only familiar with the world of good old 'barber shop' -- smelling of Cuticura/Ponds powder and Old Spice /Palmolive shaving cream, ancient Murphy radio belting some old movie songs and a Rally fan producing more sound than air.

So I decided, after some persusasion from my cousin Das, to visit Polonica and I stepped into a new world through the revolving door -- some English music wafting in the air through unseen speakers, adequately airconditioned and smelling of some expensive room freshner. All the barbers, sorry men's beauty therapists, were dressed in black trousers and cream shirts giving a touch of sophistication to their job.

Then there were umpteen bottles and equipments I failed to identify and while I standing like a party-dress clad teenager among suit-wearing executives, an elderly gentleman, surely in his mid 50s then, approached me and asked to take seat. He, Mr Raghuram as I came to know later, handed over me a menu card, service card in his language, featuring a mind-blogging list -- from simple hair-cut and shave to Chinese acu-pressure therapy.

The hair-cut and shave was the cheapest item on the card-- Rs 150, a considerable sum for a student nearly 15 years ago, and rather sheephishy I told the shop owner that I had only Rs 130 in my pocket at the moment and Das a total pauper. Mr Raghuram gave a bright smile and said, "Don't worry young man, you can have a hair-cut without a shave, though it's not on the menu, and I will charge only Rs 90." It was too tempting an offer to turn down. Rest of the money was enough for two of us for a movie and a masala dosa from Woodlands.

"Please come sir," the voice of my regular guy at Dreams broke the spell of nostalgia, but to this date I am indebted to Mr Raghuram for allowing me to experience a new-age hair-cut. Some of you might think what's-the-flaming-big-deal in a hair-cut, but it revealed to me the concept of metro-sexual man -- not apprehensive to visit a beauty parlour once viewed as the exclusive-right of women.

Customised Che

My phone flashed an unfamiliar New Delhi number on its screen, forcing me to rather loudly curse credit card and insurance companies. But the sound of my long-standing friend Cherian John Thottathil instantly wiped away my anger.
After exchanging a few plesantries (mostly the four-letter words), John asked me whether I would like to own a t-shirt spotting Che Guevara's face on it. Here let me confess my fascination for the revolutionist, his desire to see slavery, class differences and autocratic rule getting eradicated once and for all.
John also offered if I mail him Che's picture of my choice he would get it embossed on the t-shirt, sort of customised Che apparel. I guess many Che fans would have been happy to hear such an offer, but, so strangely, it made me a lot unhappy. The thought of the light of a generation becoming a marketing commodity saddened me to no end, leading to my polite refusal of that offer.
To think that, Che was totally against commercilisation only added to the irony of the whole episode, but I heard Che t-shirts are one of the most hot-selling items in garment industry these days.
While it might be taken as a symbol of new generation's awareness about Che and his ideas, is it absolutely necessary to tell the world through your clothes about your hero (not just Che)? Or follow your hero's words and walk your own path is more worthy?
Like the great German composer Beethoven told one of his disciples "the best tribute for your teacher is not copying him blindly, while that may be taken for respect, but shape your own path without sacrificing your teacher's visions."
The method can invite criticisms at times, but I believe it's the way forward.

KJ Yesudas

It's been a while I blogged courtesy my hectic tours related to work and some personal health problems. That I could not touch upon a suitable topic too contributed to my inactivity in the blog-sphere.

Then recently I stumbled on this piece of news in a film website on January 10 -- KJ Yesudas turns 70. It was really a moment of realization because till then how many of us thought about KJY's age?

It is tough to think about his age since I listen to his songs from various eras (60s, 70s, 80s and 90s) almost every day, like a ritual. It's an experience to be experienced; words can hardly convey the beauty of his music, the calmness that seeps into your soul after listening to a KJY rendition.

It hardly matters whether he sings light music or Carnatic music, for he is proficient in both forms and he was able to entertain both laymen and pundits. There have been some criticisms about the way he sings Carnatic forms that he resorts to gimmicks with voice. I just want to tell them 'please avoid the vyavahara-laden mindset and absorb his music and you will only be richer by it.' As the great Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavathar, KJY's guru, said once, "I don't understand this rigidity over Vyavahara as I know only one vyavahara and that is related to court. Music is divine and it should come from heart and soul."

Yes, KJY's music pours from his soul, if not so, it could not have touched the souls of million others transcending linguistic barriers. The days when KJY sang 16 songs might have gone behind him, but that does not reduce the magic of his craft.

It may be also because the lack of some good quality lyrics and music in modern days. The trio of Vayalar Rama Varma - G Devarajan-KJ Yesudas is still the best in Malayalam film industry, and I don't need to retell the poetical and musical quality of those songs. Pure bliss those songs are.

It is not for nothing he's been called Gana Gandharvan, and he does not need any more titles

to reveal his status as a musician, once rated by AR Rahman as the owner of the sweetest voice in

the world.

I just wish the mastero long and successful years ahead.