Month: August 2007

T.Nagar Drift

All of us, sometime in our lives, wish to seek adventure.
Adventure, the likes of rafting down the Amazon, climbing the Everest or bungee jumping Down Under.
We want to travel, to far off exotic lands and meet people from all over the world.
Yes, Adventure is a wonderful thing and for me, its a street away.
Yes, I live in T.Nagar.
You want adventure? You come to Usman Road.

Amazon? Phoo-ey. Usman Road has its own Amazon, River Usman. Its a magical river, its enough if it drizzles, it will appear and is ten times more powerful than any Amazon.
You want to climb the Everest?
Try climbing on to the platforms in Usman Road. Even if you do find space (considering all the enthu entreprenuers who set up shop in the platforms due to sky-high rent rates) to put one of your feet there, you will be pushed off by either a sotta mama whos screaming at his pondatti for buying too much at Nalli or by a “Thaenmoli” whos trying to by “jens phant” in RmKV for her “morey mamaen”.
Now this, is a real challenge.
Many people have given up, which is why they prefer walking smack on the middle of the road.
This is also a new form of transport. One doesnt have to walk in this road. You will automatically be transported to any shop you want by the crowds. Just make sure you know where you have to get off. Otherwise you might end up in Koyambedu. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.

Bungee Jumping is something is that is pursued by a lot of people, just for the adrenaline rush it
You want adrenaline?
Enter Saravana Stores, Bramaaandamai.
You enter that place, you can feel hopeless, helpless, confused, crazy, and a host of other emotions you never even knew you could feel before. But unless you really want to experience this major adrenaline rush, don’t go in, because once you do, there’s no looking back. You will
be pushed into its deepest throes by the few million fiercely fierce bargain hunters who throng that place.

If you do come back from this place in one place, and still in the mood for adventure (or have gone insane) the next thing you should try is driving down usman road.
You will experience the finest in Indian infrastructure, not to mention half the population of the
world strolling on the main road, without a care. Your car will be tapped, bonked and you will be screamed at in words you never even knew existed.
But at the end of the day, when you come back home in one piece, you can take pride in yourself. You are a survivor of Usman Road.
Beat this, Indiana jones.


Goodbyes are something I’ve never been quite fond of. Of late there have been one too many goodbyes that I have had to say, and trust me, it’s hard.
One of the most significant goodbyes however was to a certain teacher.
A teacher who went by the name of Natrajamurthy B.

Natrajamurthy sir or Nattu Sir as we used to call him taught me Accountancy, among other things.
I had joined his classes early Eleventh standard, a few weeks into school, after a couple of recommendations from some of my other classmates.
The first few classes, were a lot of fun, with random bits of advice and the basic principles of accounts and we shared a great student-teacher chemistry, especially because I was looking forward towards a career in accounts (CA).
It took a few more classes and my over-enthu doubts (which were usually out-of-syllabus) to figure out that he knew my father pretty well (“You’re Mohan’s daughter?!!” I can never quite forget that incredulous look on sir’s face).
A few days later, I failed my first unit test in accounts.
Not surprisingly I threw a hissy fit, cried and deemed myself unfit for accountancy. It took one and a half hours of counseling from Sir to register the fact that this test was of no consequence to what I would be doing in the future and neither was it any sort of indicator of my intelligence.
But I still didn’t believe him.
Atleast not until the midterms, when I actually started scoring.
The feeling of “Yes, this is exactly what I should be doing!” where accounts was concerned grew with everyone of his classes.

Honestly, there would be a lot of diversions in his classes, mokka jokes, wuzzles, “life” advice and stories of our seniors and most importantly he kept reminding us that we were some of the best brains in the country (which I didn’t believe, still).

He tried to drive us out of the beliefs that there was no way that we could take over the customary school, er toppers (y’know, the people who come first in everything).
And in the school final, much to our own amazement, we did, leading to a “told you so” dialogue with Sir.

We loved the way in which he taught us, he always called us his “buddies” and for every right answer we gave, we would get a Hi-5, which was later changed to “halfway” and finally “halfway buddy”.

I am not a punctual person, I have always been sloppy where that was concerned and used to come late pretty often which irked Sir. He would shout at me, for a full ten minutes, made me skip tests because I was late for them, and yes, he was hard on me. It really pissed me off at one point of time considering he wouldn’t be as hard on the other kids who came late as he was on me. And I remember telling him that too, “Sir, you’re partial”
He called me aside that evening after class and told me, “I’m extra hard on you because you’re extra special to me.”

At that point of time I thought it was the worst bit of logic on the planet. But I was determined not to give him any more excuses to shout at me. I started coming on time, not only for his classes but for everything else. That made a world of difference in my life, considering I was always running late for everything.
Now, if I’m punctual or even early for something, I owe it to him.

Twelfth was a year we drove him crazy. We’d bunk a lot, me especially, what with Elections, Reverbs and a whole lot of cultural hopping. This showed on my preliminary tests where my marks were pretty dismal. I didn’t settle down until as late as October and that was when all the learning had to be redone. It was quite frustrating for both sir as well as us because in some classes we never did get anywhere and on top of that, sir would keep saying that we had the talent to top the school when we would have been more than happy to scrape a 90.
But January, February we shifted gears after constant prodding and began our hard work, and those tests which sir gave were like God-send, especially because they were these short, snappy tests which tested only particular areas, which meant it didn’t take too much time to prepare but then again, Sir had this super knack of picking out questions that were usually in some remote corner of the book.

I came back to my “usual form” in those tests and that really pushed up the confidence meter.
Two days before the Accountancy Board exam sir had called us for giving the test papers that we had written the previous day. I had come third or something, I don’t really remember.
But what I do remember is asking Sir (after everybody had left) if I had what it took to top the school in the Subject, paavum face, et al. What I got in return was this total dressing down of what an unbearably stupid question I had asked. (“Lavanya, what are you saying? What are you saying? Look at you! This is NOT the time for you to get self doubts ) which basically implied that I could.

As far as I was concerned, my boards were a disaster – a balance sheet didn’t tally (calculation mistake of some sort) and there was a mistake in the question paper, plus i had spent too much time on the sum in which I was stuck that I didn’t have too much time to complete Part B.
I came home, threw one of my famous fits again, threw my mobile phone on the wall and tore my question paper up into half. And you think YOU have issues.

Took me a day to move on, but I did, and before I knew it, results were around the corner.
I couldn’t sleep the day before my results came so I moved around all the furniture in the house until I was bone tired and finally fell asleep.
Turned out I got 99.
School First in Accounts.
Sir was the first person I had called, not even my father who was in Malaysia at that time and our conversation went thus:
Me: SIR!!! 99 SIR!! 99!!
me: SIR!! 99!!

That 99 hangover lasted for a week, FINALLY something to brag about, after 15 years of schooling (Actually I had topped commerce as well, in fact my board performance was pretty awesome, 469, school third, and oh how I love saying that)
This July brought the end of our “professional” ties (we forced him to take CPT classes as well), we had to say goodbye to man who was almost like a father figure to us.
I will miss you, your teaching and also the whats-for-dinner game.
To the man who taught me punctuality.
To the man who taught me confidence.
To the man who taught me how to drive out insecurities.
To the man who taught me how to take failures in my stride.
To the man who taught me Corporate Accounting.
To the man who had more belief in me than I ever will.
To the man who said “I dont know about that Lalu but this Lalu is a Prasad” 😀
Sir, Thank You for the memories.

Nattu Sir is not the only special person to whom I’m saying goodbye.
I wish I didn’t have to.
You’ll always be special to me, I hope you know that and I will always remember you whenever I have thaenga chutney.
Or Paruppu sadam.
Or feedback forms.
Or Veerasamy.
Or Mirrors.
Or Chemistry.
Or Pavada dhavani.
I have lots more to put in here but I can’t remember some.
Damn you.

My CPT got rescheduled because of some moron in Delhi who leaked the paper for a paltry 60,000. There are 82,000 kids writing this paper, even if each one had contributed one buck each, he would have got more.
*insert expletive here*


[I wrote this review in my first blog, The Evil Autorickshaw. Now its back on popular request and also to help a friend who will be seeing this epic movie shortly]
Vijaya T Rajendhar is back with his latest offering to us quality-movie-ridden souls : VEERASAMY (Although it would have been more apt to title the movie as “Brother Bear” ) It contains all the necessary ingredients of his trademark movies – A] Himself – as the swashbuckling, righteous, witty, educated, strong, back-belti-doing, karate kicking, never shaving MLA who goes on these random sprees in the city to “correct” the wrongdoers and bring justice to the poor & problem having. He is accompanied by 2 sidekicks constantly, and one of them (Santhanam, of all people! We can only hope he was drunk when he accepted this part) is armed with a camera making TR this mobile tehelka. For example, when a traffic policeman tells the commuter, “konjam vettu”, TR appears from nowhere (which is quite a feat considering his size) and cuts the policeman’s arm with his trusty aruval. When the police guy squeals in pain, TR tells him “nee dhanapa vettunnu sonna, adhanaala vettinaen” and walks the walk while the commuter guy is left wondering about who/what he is. Another time, there is a man who is pissing on the road even after reading the sign saying “siruneer pogadheer”. TR once again jumps into the frame from nowhere and pisses on him!! His reason? There is no sign on the man’s pants saying “don’t piss”! TR thus amazes the audience with his incredible logic and social message. B] Thangachee – The sun rises in the east. Delhi is the capital of India. The sky is blue. Therefore, TR will have thangachee who is nearly 20 years younger, doesn’t resemble him even one inch and will be the sole purpose of his existence. Hence proved. C] Kaadhal – TR’s lady love is none other than Mumtaj. They share a Punidhamaana kaadhal, (peer louwe/pure love) which means she has to keep removing her dhawani in his presence, give him lusty smiles, use his poster as a bedsheet, share a bathtub of aarogya paal, tattoo his name on her chest, steal his soap and use it with aching desire and (this one is the ultimate) drink the water that drips from his beard like “perumal theertham”. GIVE HER THE OSCAR ALREADY!! D] Meesic – TR is the music director of this movie, need I say more? It is like a bhagavatar padam, with songs every two minutes. The re-recording is also of the same quality – the bg music is the same line in different tempos/tunes (avaru mood-a capture panraaram) – “unna kaadhalika oru aayiram paer varuvaanga, aana ennamattum neenga yen therndhetitheenga” TR dancing is the highlight of this movie. One can see that he is quite a trained belly dancer considering his thoppai has a life of its own when he’s dancing. The movie is 150 minutes. If you come out after seeing the whole thing, congratulations. You are truly made up of strong stuff. The city is being run by a corrupt dhadha minister. He is spurred by his keep, Rousu-Rani (the only woman who can give our jackpot Khushboo competition in wearing wacky saree blouses), to try and do some KD things in Veerasamy’s area. His assistants warn him of our jambavan but the minister turns a deaf ear to them. Rouserani comes to his thogudhi but is left insulted by TR who bashes up her rowdies and comes up with his own version of petta-rap : ey, nee porandhadhu pudhupettai
valarndhadhu vannarampettai
sight-adichadhu saidapettai
kalyanam pannadhu kannamapettai
Raid aanadhu Ranipettai
Unga aathalukku kaaryam pannadhu chromepettai Etc etc which displays TR’s geographical knowledge of our city. TR is the much respected MLA in his thogudhi and spouts wisdom to all his loyal katchi-kaarans every two minutes and is on a mission to make India the most prosperous country in the world. He is noble and has great respect for his traditions, so much so that he doesn’t allow his thangachee to wear to jeans to college. However, his sister falls in love with the “cool dude” of her college – Arun, a guy (I’m actually not too sure about that) who has a broken natraj pencil going through one of his ears (and thus amplifying his coolness). He is actually Rouserani’s brother, hence causing kozhappam in kudumbam. However, it just so happens that the “glaymer gul” of college, Meghna Naidu is also after him. She wears only itty bitty clothes to college and has hundreds of guys behind her although she wants only Arun. She is the minister’s daughter, gets away with anything that she wants and says stuff like “daddee, enakku idhu veynoooo!” . Charming. TR is facing problems of his own, though with a Veeramami living opposite his house. She is Mumtaj’s mummy who is trying to force her into the family business. Hence veerasamy has to constantly save Mumtaj from perils and romance her. TR however does not commit himself even after sharing the bathtub (they were dreams remember??) and takes a promise from her to never commit suicide. In fact, the theatre people must get a hint from this scene and ask the audience (if any) to not commit suicide before they proceed to watch the movie. Mumtaj is married off by her mummy to the new MLA and leaves our hero in shambles. Mr.Mumtaj and TR contest in elections but TR loses. So TR gives himself morale boost by comparing himself to Sachin Tendulkar. (Ignorance is bliss, truly) Now, due to kudumba prachanais, TR’s thangachee’s and Arun’s marriage don’t go according to plan. This is basically because RouseRani loses in a game of musical chairs with TR during the engagement. So TR will conduct his sister’s marriage with a “handsome” doctor boy whom he prevented from going to the US because he has to do sevai for country (this doctor boy is none other than Rajiv, a PSBBian, Std XII C, batch of 2002-2003…..ack!) However, Meghna Naidu thirundhifies (after rolling with Arun on the bed) and oppadichifies him back to TR’s family. Now TR is in the state of great mental trauma and starts crying, leaving the audience in splits. However, he decides that he is a “veeran” and goes out to kill all those bullies of the minister’s. He then decides that he has to save energy for his sister’s marriage and simply removes his veshti, thus leaving the thugs dead on the spot. His dhoti also falls on Mumtaj (fresh from murdering her hubby), who also dies, naatham thaangamudiyaama. When actual samandhis reach the spot, TR is faced with a barrage of questions that he cannot answer and drops dead. Such is the acting of TR that even after dying, he is able to give expression. “A film by Vijaya T Rajendhar” Me and my father cheer. Turns out we are the only two people left in the theatre. Note: Kindly do not watch this movie if you have heart problems, BP etc. I cannot guarantee
that you will be alive after seeing it.

I cannot believe, that I’m doing propaganda for a 11 year old.

Anyways, my sister, is now a blogger (joy).
Click here to take a peep into the madness that is Varsha Mohan.
And don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.