Patriotism Ki Maa Ki Aankh!

OK! Call me unpatriotic or whatever fuckin shit you want to. If you have no better use of that desi topi you bought last year, please book the nearest maidaan & start an 'India Against Aakaash' campaign right away... But if you ask me, I care a crocodile's ass for whatever you think of this post.

As some of you might know, Diego Maradona (needs no introduction), was in Kannur, Kerala this week. Lemme not waste time in giving you details of his visit you already know about from the TV, Newspapers and whatever! What bothered me outright was the footballer screaming "Indiaaaaaa.... Indiaaaaa" as the crowd cheered his name & went into a frenzy. I am not balled over at the hysteria of the poor Malayali crowd for a player of Maradona's stature. What irked me was the player's blazing ignorance in geography. I am not extolling my geographical genius here, but I am bloody well aware of where Maradona comes from. Of course, I must admit it is all thanks to my geography teacher Sindhu miss, who in her own inimitable tempting style taught my class how far the Andes mountain range spread. Sigh! Good 'ol days when she'd........ Oops! Sorry.... Drifted off topic :P

You don't hear me scream "South America.... South America!" when Argentina's playing right??? Bledddy Naaaaansense... Then why Mr. Maradona you shouting "Indiaaaa... Indiaaaaa" at the top of your lungs??? In case you didn't realize, a Karan Joharishly creepy but ultra magnanimous Malayali philanthropist called Bobby Chemmannur got you to this strange land of crazy football fanatics called Kerala... North Kerala or Malabar to be more specific. Kerala, in case you didn't know is a country in itself with its capital at Dubai, Washington D.C, Bangalore, Moon & everywhere else except Thiruvananthapuram (Trivandrum for those who've never used a tongue cleaner). So if you can't scream "Keralaaaaa... Kerala!" when you're here as a OUR guest... pardon my audaciousness, you can go fuck yourself somewhere in that area where Sindhu miss told me to shade darker (some big shit volcano I believe) on the Andes mountains. Thank you.


Sincerely,

A Bleddy yaangri Mallu.

The Story-teller & his Chatterbox

The master story-teller had no words to speak for the first time in his life as he stood in awe of the adorable chatterbox. Every word she spoke fell on him like tiny pear-shaped drops of summer-rain. He felt his body & soul getting drenched in the voluptuous magnificence of the rain that was now beginning to engulf him in its amative wrap. He fell on his knees & surrendered himself to the story she had to tell. For he had no doubt, it was the Greatest Love Story ever told!

Old man & the C

"Shot ready, Sir", I said politely. 
He looked up at me with a sharp gaze taking his eyes off the black tea he was consuming. 
" ചായ കുടിക്കാനും നീ സമ്മതിക്കില്ലേ? ", he said in that 'infamous Thilakan tone'.
" അയ്യോ! ചായ കുടിച്ചിട്ട് മതി Sir... ഞാന്‍ ഇവിടെ wait ചെയ്തോളാം ".
A tiny smile appeared on my face as I completed that sentence since this seemingly rude old man reminded me of my late grandpa who was tough on the exterior but soft inside. As if to justify my thoughts he gave me a glimpse of something similar to a smile from the corner of his lips, took a bite off the ഉണ്ണിയപ്പം in his right hand & gulped down the tea in his left hand at one go. Taking help from his trusted lady assistant to get up he looked at me & said, 
" വാ... പോകാം! ".
Those were the only words Thilakan sir ever spoke to me. We exchanged smiles a couple of times. That's about it. But it was more than enough for me to comprehend that here was a terribly misunderstood old man, simple & honest at heart, who at his younger age never cared a damn about being politically correct and was even more so at his old age. 
R.I.P dearest Thilakan Sir.... 
I wish I had the chance to direct you someday! Sigh!

Pic taken on the sets of "Simhasanam" directed by Shaji Kailas.