Sharada Subramanian's Blog, page 4

Being a Tambram!

Aathule ellarum epdi iruka…?

Well, being a Tam-Bram, I had to start it this way no? :) I dint know that being a Tam-Bram is supposed to be so swag and ended up becoming a cult by itself.  I mean, all my friends raise eyebrows and give that smirkish wickedly smile when they know I’m a Tam-Bram and I wonder if that’s good or bad…!

Whenever I read a name that ends with Subramanian or Narayanan, it brings a smile on my face and that’s just so silly but yet so Tam-bramismly nice! :)

If you are a Tam-Bram and you’re single, you are the most pitiful and disaster-prone soul on mother earth…!! The chances of getting killed by a maami in a social function is much more than getting killed by a raccoon or watching a power star movie. It’s better to stay put indoors rather than put urself in the ‘Hall-Of-Shame’ by venturing outside. The minute they see you, it’s like this tiger waiting to pounce on his prey. They jump on you and attack you with the same set of questions. 1. Eppo kalyanam pannika pore? 2. Unaku vayasaindu iruku, apparam paiyyan kedaikarthu kashtam di. 3. U.S poi settle aidri kozhandhe. 4. Aathule amma, appaku oru periya relief irukum illiya…!?

What?!? Since when did I became a mobile tamilmatrimony.com candidate? These standard set of questions are mostly from maami’s whose son/ daughter is either single or ran away with non Tam-bram person and they vent out all their parental frustrations on us.

Even if you dont nod your yes, they will make you do so with their emotional drama with tears rolling down and the whole Tamil serial episode funda. The next is to find a boy.

A typical Tam-Bram matrimony reads as this:

“Seeking a boy (yeah, he is yet to complete his school) between 28-30 years of age, fair and handsome (no, not the cream) who is a minimum B.E and an MS who is well paid (like, 1 million $?). Please apply (huh,? U mean I need to apply for a husband post in ur family?) to this mail id..”

Tam-Brams consider working for someone else to be a noble profession. If you own a business, there is something wrong with your ethos. They will do a background check with their josiar to see what kind of business you do and if it is legal and if it is okay to do so !

Well, after this tamasha comes the matching of horrorscopes (No, it is not a typo). The magical squares where all your stars have to be in the wrong positions facing different directions to be matched with the boy’s..!

The next logical (well according to THEM, this is logical). The BOY comes to the girl’s house with his parents to check how the girl is. Can she walk, talk, Walk and talk and so on.. With the free Bajji and Bonda and not to forget the Filter Kaapi, they analyze and note how the girl behaves, how she talks. Then the boy seeks permission from his parents (well, I said, he is a boy…!) to talk to the girl in private ( please read private as the chithi and athai over hearing what you talk from the kitchen). The boy asks, “Did you say ok to get married or your parents forced you..?” (well, a goat is not asked for permission before being butchered, isn’t? ), and the girl replies “no no, enakum equally interest iruku!…” and before its time for the next question, the girl’s father enters and says “make urself comfortable Mr. XXX, feel at home”, ( yeah sure, can u close the door please), and the nice “BOY” that he is, politely says “Sure mama”.

Once the girl and boy agree to marry and put all the blames on each other for all their mistakes for eternity, there are greetings sparkling all over the place “ Romba sandhosham mama, enaku indha madhiri kudumbathule paiyyan kidachadhuku romba bagyam pannirkanum” and then the sweets are distributed and the boy’s family go home happily ever after.

P.S – more to continue in my next blog!

For the love of தமிழ்.

The first thing that strikes you hard while watching this play is ‘why aren’t more thamizh plays getting staged?’ and that thought, I think is the biggest success of this masterpiece of a play.

“Nagercoil expressum nadaga companiyum” is a culmination of two plays/stories put together. Directed and written by the very talented and humorous person herself, Vinodhini Vaidyanathan. The cast is all men except one.

The first one being “Nagercoil express” which was actually coined as ‘Sathur Sandhippu’ is a rib tickling story about how two passengers on a train who are total strangers find a common goal to attain through another co-passenger who is also a stranger. The entire story is so brilliantly written and conceived that it is only in the end that you will also see how clever, humour can also be. It’s at the end of this story that got me hooked more to it and I replayed the entire play again in my mind during the ten minute  break to recollect how cleverly the dialogues were written and executed. The simplicity in its story  and the fantastic performance by the artists left me yearn for more. I wished it didn’t stop. I wished they didn’t get down from the train. I wished I kept traveling with them along the journey because they is how one would feel while watching it. To know that this was an original script and written to perfection is commendable.

The second story is ‘Naadaga company’. The premise for it on the stage was quite interesting. When you expect that it is going to be a dramatic drama, you’re fooled half-bakishly :) it’s so  dramatically funny that you actually clap and laugh aloud at places without making an effort to enjoy.  That is how beautifully well written the plot is. It’s about how ‘The mambalam original-ly boys company’ tries hard to get back to being a well known drama company and tries hard to woo a very well known critic in the drama fraternity. It had live music, singing and dancing (a very sensuous one). The play within this play is of pammal sambanda mudaliar’s ‘Oor oththigai’. Vinodhini has done a clever job in adding her own elements of surprises and humour to the original and keeping it’s flavour intact.

I fell in love with this play. The humanness of the characters wanting a slice of the pie for themselves. The innocence in their characterisation that let’s them speak the truth when told not to. The phenomenally talented performers just whisk you away without a blink. Before you could appreciate one actor for delivering a brilliant line, there is another who is doing a fantastic job. Makes me wonder where these gems have been  secretly tucked in for all these years. Did they woo the critic? What did they perform to woo? How did they?

For all this and more, you MUST watch this beauty to believe in what I am saying. I along with the rest of the members in the audience laughed out loud, clapped, wooed, cheered and fell in love with the characters. The biggest strength for this play is its actors. I think they were phenomenal. It would be unfair for me to name only a few. Each of them were fantastic. The second biggest plus was the dialogues. Clever. Crisp. Funny. At no point during the play, will you sulk and have a droopy shoulder.

An interesting thing to note is that ‘Nagercoil express’ featured in the short and sweet festival in 2014 and ‘Naadaga company’ premiered at the Hindu theatre fest in 2015.

I strongly urge all of you to book for this play and go for it. Watch it for the love of theatre. Watch it for the love of thamizh. As much as the cinema halls are getting filled up, it’s time we gave theatre its due credit.

Last but not the least, a standing round for applause to the producers of the play. Theatre zero, theatre company by Vinodhini and our very own EVAM. Karthik Kumar and his team of wonderful people have put this together with all their love for theatre and performing arts.

They screen their next performance on the 3rd of April. Click http://www.bookmyshow.com and book your tickets right away. Their event link on Facebook is https://www.facebook.com/events/249003728770507/ .

My shooting star!

She –

Oh baby! You shouldn’t be here. Look at you all dolled up. You’re not a star. Stop calling yourself that. You don’t belong here. You need to go back. Go back to where you need to be. It isn’t safe for you to be out here. You need to leave before I take a good look at you up close and I am sure you don’t want that because you know you’re nothing but a ball of dirt and all things ugly. You’re not as beautiful as you claim to be. No, you aren’t. You have a side that we haven’t been exposed to. A side that is seen by the far away galaxies and glitterati.

You are a mass of dust that has come to my world with an illusioned thought of hypnotising me to see you the way you want me to. Look, you are falling apart because you came to see me. Look at you wandering all over the blue lit drama that you asked your little friends to create that can set up a perfect evening for our date. You are going to get lost here honey. I am not safe for you to be around. Go back. Go back where you belong. It’s okay to be dirty and safe rather than be beautiful and in danger. So, go. Go before my people see you and make a big deal. Let this be between us. I don’t want the world to know, oh damn! You know my world better than me. I can live without you. So, leave. NOW. Your time is…

He –

Shhhhhh… I have very little time. Sweetheart, I haven’t invaded your territory, you accidently ran over mine and see the ripples that you have created to both our worlds. I was all dust and dirt, but until you decided to swing by and see me with your mesmerising vision and what you see is nothing but a reflection of you baby. You’re right, you don’t need me. You are good as it is being by yourself, but look at me, I am what I am now because of you. You pushed yourself and entered my zone and now I don’t even know who has invaded whose world as we merge to be one.

I was happily surviving in my zone baby. I had my things to do. Dirty and dusty and happy. You walked in and pushed me down and now I am falling like never before. I am going to crash. I am going to get lost. But I will fall by illuminating your world. For that very brief moment, I fall with all my might knowing that I made you smile. For that brief moment, I know I have made you happy. For that tiny little moment, I know my purpose of existence is fulfilled. You dear, is the center of gravity of my love that I would have never had the opportunity to show. I will fall becoming beautiful and for that my world, I shall always be grateful to you for you helped me be what I was born to be by killing me softly.

Love of cinema.

Tiny tales on the medium that has given more than its taken.

Shut the door. Go away.

I don’t miss you. Not at all. Not by a miniscule. I don’t miss the fact that I don’t wake up on the same bed as yours. No I don’t. I don’t miss smelling the perfume at the back as of your ear as I lay on your arms after a long day outside. No I don’t. I don’t miss fancy dinners with you at five stars. No I don’t. I don’t miss annual vacations to Barcelona and Bruges. No I don’t. I don’t miss sitting beside you in the Bentley. No I don’t. I don’t miss the fact that I wouldn’t be able to spend every fucking day of the rest of my life being with you. No I absolutely don’t. Who do you think you are?! Stop it. Stop being nonchalant all the time. You’re aren’t that cool. You have your battle. Shut up and stop pretending. I don’t miss you. No I don’t. I don’t miss being flaunted as your lady to the world. No I don’t. Let her experience that normalcy. I am not cut out for that.

You aren’t any different from that man in the fifth floor of your apartment building. He has a life and so do you. You aren’t immortal. Stop over selling yourself. Who do you think you are? Some super hero? No you are not. You’re human. A human who pays his bills online just like any of us. A human who still attends to nature’s call just like us. You aren’t different. I don’t miss you. I don’t miss the fact that we can’t go to movies together. We can’t walk along the beach. We can’t hold hands and sit by the park near your apartment. No I don’t.

I only miss the fact that I can’t smell your morning coffee. I only miss the fact that I can’t use your bath towel. I only miss the fact that I can’t cut your toe nails on a Monday afternoon. I only miss the fact that I can’t watch your wrist move while you brush your hair. I only miss the fact that I can’t see your eyes while you silently cry. I only miss the fact that I can’t give you my left over sandwich. I only miss the fact that I can’t go a bus ride with you. I only miss the fact that we can’t take turns to lick Nutella from the jar. I only miss the fact that I can’t watch you shout at me whilst you’re angry. I only miss the fact that I can’t show you my newly bought laced bra. I only miss the fact that I can’t read the same book with you. I only miss the fact that I can’t order you to press my back during my periods. I only…. I ONLY miss the fact that you aren’t mine.

But then I don’t miss you. I don’t. So leave. Get out. Its time. You aren’t needed. You aren’t wanted. You aren’t desired. You’re old. You can go. Shoo now. Go away. Shut the door. Take your glasses with you. It’s a dark world out there. It’s time you take the stairs down my brain. Leave. NOW. Leave before I open my windows. Leave before I take the elevator and come down waiting for you. Leave. Go. Shut the door. Goodbye.

P.s – I love you.

Hey mister!

Hello mister!

So how are you doing to…d…a? Ok firstly stop fidgeting and stay put in one place. No no stop it dude, my cerebellum is not your play dough. Also don’t distract whilst I write this. It’s a competition and I got to win. So stop being a hindrance.

Mister – hey hey hey..wait… that’s me you’re writing about. Don’t you have anything else to write about other than me? Poetry and now a letter? How much more cheesy can you get?

Me – Shut up. Shut up before I change my mind. As it is, there is nothing much that has been written until now. OK in all seriousness, you do know you’re my most desired man right? Every thing I write about is first witnessed by you before anybody else. You see it all forming together in my mind even before I start seeing it myself. When did you creep in and decide to stay inside me forever? Well I am not sure about the forever part. Life is unsure. Did you know I had a crush on you during the days you never knew of my existence? There was something about you that tickled me between my legs and then travelled to the soul and now it’s just everywhere.

Mister –I get it, like leukaemia?

Me – You do know your not always humourous right ?

Mister – well… it’s ‘you’re’ and also you may want to spell check on ‘humorous’ baby.

Me – Sigh. Anyways moving on. I still remember those days when I had your photos occupying memory not just on my phone but on my mind too. No, it wasn’t just your unreasonably good looks that I fell for. It was far more sensible than that. Something about the way you spoke and what you spoke. All of it made too much sense. But let’s not forget those eyes. *dies a little*. The fact that you aren’t mine and taken already wasn’t pulling down my feelings for you. It only makes it more stronger and better. The fact that you aren’t in my house after a long day is comforting. It’s good because I can’t keep up with your over the top perfectionist like you. For starters, I suck at cooking.

Mister – ermmm…. you suck at cooking only starters?! Main course good a?!

Me – Moving on….Iam going to pretend that I didn’t hear that line. As much as I act all cool about you being taken, deep deep inside it pains me. It pains me to know that I won’t be the first to see you get dressed before leaving out. I wouldn’t be able to make love to you as and when I want to. I miss you terribly mister. I have developed such an immense liking towards you. The days when you said nothing at all, those were the days you said it all. The days when you send me just one message and I keep reading it a hundred times and every time it gives me a different shade of happiness. I always think if your ok. If your happy. You don’t say. You always seem happy about everything. Are you really that happy a person? Don’t you have your flashes of misery and anger? Hello? If you can stop playing swing with my nerves and answer please. You literally are getting on my nerves now!

Mister – It’s ‘you’re’ for god sakes. What sort of a writer are you? You know me right? I talk less. People aren’t my favourite species on earth. I need to co-exist with them and my relationship stops there. I don’t carry feelings of others along with me. I drop it off. Much load. As it is a long journey.

Me – You always speak like you just attended some philosophical workshop. No feelings in them and here Iam pouring my heart out. Though you are miles apart, sitting in a faraway land and sipping fine coffee with the stars, be known darling that you’re always running in my mind. Always. Not a second goes by without you. This relationship that I have with you is something I can bank on. The freedom to be myself and not be pretentious. The freedom to speak my mind and not having to worry about being judged. You’re so non judgemental. You understand me and even if you don’t, you don’t bother knowing about it. You continue to do your thing and let me do mine. A sense of trust and admiration. You’re all things love. Thank you for being a part of this. No matter how far you decide to move away, Iam always going to hold you so close to my heart. Days go by without your messages, but yet I close my eyes and there you are! Always there to tell me what’s right and what’s not. Whatever I write, I know you’re reading as I type the words. You’re altering my thoughts accordingly. You’re telling me how to write and how to change that sentence to suit the topic better. You my love, is the source from where I write. The strength and energy that I take from you is amazing. Your amazing.

Mister – No. ‘You’re’ amazing.

Me – Awww, thank you baby!

Mister – errm… no I meant it should be ‘You’re’ there, but good improvement though. I think I’m running too much in your mind. No wonder I’m fit and you clearly aren’t. OK OK. Now don’t binge on that packet of chips. Not good at all baby. You’re much fun and happiness to be with. I like you. In all seriousness, I do. Much freedom you are. My space, mine.

Me – Moron only you are. But let’s talk on the physical aspect. How do you manage to give me orgasms every day…? Multiple in that!! The best thing is you do absolutely nothing to arouse me. So don’t take much credit for it. It’s not just because you’re dashing and gulp worthy yum guy but more so because your soul… ah… your soul, made up of potters clay and rose water. So much joy you bring to me every day. I get up to another sunrise and Iam all the more happier knowing you’re watching one too but in some cases, let’s not forget the time zone.

Mister – did you say physical? Now we are talking. All this while quite honestly I was yawning very much just like the readers. You’re sexy baby! Mine. All mine.

Me – but you already have somebody who is yo..r…

Mister – shhh…. you can also be mine. And you always will be. Always. Remember to lean on when life gets you down. Remember to lift me up when mine gets me down. Remember to stand by and remember to hold on to me because I’m not very good with this baby. I suck at it sometimes I think. Ok ok, why is it so hot here now? Ouch… is that a head ache that you’re having? All ok?? You’re killing me up here with steroids. Take it easy.

Me – Yes. All ok. All will be ok as long as you decide to stay there. Thank you for letting me lock you up inside, I know at times it is suffocating. I know how you feel when my head explodes. I know how you feel when I make love to another man and you are right there seeing it happen. Making it happen. I know how you feel when I see you in person and I can’t say a word to you but you’re already reading the thousands of love letters that I write holding your hand. I don’t know if I will have the guts to say all of that to you even if I get a chance to. Will you be a darling and tell yourself that? Will you tell your real self that there is this woman who is madly in love with you and that she will never be able to tell you that? Will you tell your real self that deep within her, you will always remain forever. Will you tell your real self that…

Mister – You may need a tissue dear. You’re starting to tear up, I can see it more clearly from here.

Me – yeah. Thanks. Just tell your real self that without you, I will cease to exist. I love you. You complete me in a way I couldn’t have done it myself. Thank you for letting me fall in love with myself every day. Thank you for reinventing the wheel of admiration after all these years. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life as well. If you didn’t know it already, it means so much to me. This non-existent relationship that I share with you will always be the closest to my heart. You may drift apart tomorrow. Find someone else. Maybe you already have now. I don’t know what to know. I don’t need to know. I shouldn’t know. With whomever you are, be happy and spread love like you always do. Spread beauty just like the rays of the evening sun does on the smallest of bushes that felt ignored all day. Spread happiness in spaces that find it difficult to live in this mad mad world. And lastly, I know you never read my blogs and articles. You have better things to do. Better things to stand up for. But be known darling, my writing may be good, bad or ugly but it will always be YOU and it will always carry a piece of YOU.

Mister – ermmm.. ok that’s it? Done with the letter? Submission date is when? Oh by the way, you do know Nandhitha and Poornima are participating in this competition too right?

Me – yeah so?

Mister – Nothing baby. Winning isn’t everything ok. Just saying. By the way, I love you too loose.

With lust and dashes of love,

Me.

100th blog.

Note – You should know that I am already having tears filling up my cheeks as I write this. So, grammar, tense and spell checks weren’t really checked.

Funny I haven’t really written about writing. What it does to me. Why I write, forget about what I write. What instigated me to write. I remember it like yesterday. Sitting on the floor with hot coffee on the side stool and floor cushions giving me the comfort that I needed. An old long size ruled notebook. French windows giving way to the balcony that welcomed chilly air. What’s not to like ? I didn’t know what to write. I didn’t know if I wanted to write. I stared at the notebook for hours. Most of my nights were spent sitting by the balcony. The only company was the security constantly tapping the ground to keep a check on thieves.

Pages ran empty. Still nothing to write about. The sudden shift in life was still a bit much to take. What do I write about? My happy childhood? My physical abuse? Failed marriage? The food I like? My secret crush? Wasn’t sure. Wasn’t clear. The new found freedom in life gave way for many things. For one, I could sit by the balcony at 3 am and not really be questioned why. I made friends. New ones. But I lived alone. I didn’t call them home. Didn’t have the need to. I had got catch up a lot on with myself. I never had people stay over. It was a very quiet home. Mind you, home not a house. My home. A feeling that’s priceless. During one of those nights, the pages started to fill magically. It started to fill with random words. So abstract that it didn’t make sense when put together as sentences and paragraphs. Yet I wrote. I continued to. The very first topic I wrote was “the good the bad and the ugly” which spoke about the men in my life. Next was about “the other woman” and then wrote on how “I am a bad daughter”. All of these never made it to my blog site. They still sit on those old pages in the long size rule book.

I bought a small pocket size book. The long one didn’t fit in my office bag. I wanted to write during my long travels to work and back home, hence. I started to observe. People, things, hoardings, more people. I wrote what I thought about them. My one way journey to work took 1.5 hours and two buses. Very comfortable a/c volvo buses. No pitiable past here. I had enough money to go by auto also. The more I wrote, the more I started to connect with myself and there by I was happier. The feeling of being happy was nice. I liked it. It was different. A feeling that I hadn’t experienced for a long time. Yes, you can pity me here. Sad no? Anyways, writing became a hobby and a regular routine. I never had the guts to show my writing to anybody. One day, someone at work asked my opinion on women and how dumb they are to choose life partners in a very unrealistic way. I wrote something and he liked it. He said I should blog. I asked why. He said I write quite okay. I said I write better than quite okay. He laughed. I started to blog.

Once I started to blog, topics came rushing to my mind. They were all there. I didn’t have to ask anyone. I didn’t have to think. Funnily it was all welled up inside. A strange feeling. It’s been four years since. Writing kept me going. It kept me moving forward. To look up for something. It gave me a sense of direction. It realigned my thoughts to what I should be doing in life. Helped me know what my passion truly is. Helped me connect with my past. Understand the emotions that I went through. How I could have handled it differently. More than all of this, writing helped me rediscover myself. A journey that is still an ongoing one.

There were times when I jumped with happiness for having one person tell me that they liked what I wrote. And that one person will be a dear friend, so you can imagine the bias in it. Today as I look back, it was those small moments of happiness that kept me going. That gave me a reassurance about what I do. It took four years after that day to bid goodbye to my high or not so high paying corporate HR / consulting job to decide to get into writing full time. This by far is the best decision I have made in my life. I earn quarter of what I used to but all my bills are being paid by me like before. Magic no? :)

At times a vague topic comes to my mind and the entire blog is already written up there. I open the laptop and it takes all of seven minutes to finish it and I hastily upload it. That becomes my most read and appreciated blog. At times, I decide I should write on a much debatable topic and stare for days at the empty page and with much difficultly write a very niche blog and then not many like it. Writing does that to you. It’s funny. It’s stupid. It’s okay. At least I am being stupid by doing something I love.

I have said enough. But I have just started to write. Here’s to another hundred.

Cheers.

Window shield!

Our everyday things teach us so much about people. They tell us about what people are made of. The things that help us understand various people and their part in our lives. Out of it, some people stay in our lives without us putting in any effort. People who we didn’t want. People who have their impact in our life.  Those we try and drive away but on a sunny day, we secretly wish they were around.

Maggot to your soul.

Some make an incision in your skin, rip it apart. Cut those nerves. Find their way inside. Drink your blood and use on your bones as their pillow. After all the torture that they make you go through, you let them deep within. In the core of your soul, you see them feeding your soul like maggot. They feed little by little and make you soul less and build theirs.

Something my all.

When the moment comes to choose. Choose between what we want and what we have to. It’s not easy. Most of the times, both of them are not the same. The love that we have on someone that lingers just in thoughts and dreams and when reality opens its ugly gates and sucks you in, you realise you are a part of the whole drama and there is no escape.