Month: May 2008

Of Kakas and Kuruvis

Dear Mr.Dharani. This is coming from a genuine fan. I loved Dhool, I even liked Ghilli. But your latest offering has left me (and several others) feeling appalled.

I am a brave girl, I confess. Which is why even after the few million warning/why-do-you-want-to-play-with-your-life mesages that I had received, I decided that I had to see the movie Kuruvi.

Vijay, ofcourse, is continuing his experimentative streak. While he has donned the extremely challenging and varied roles of mechanic, car mechanic, bike mechanic, cycle mechanic etc in his previous movies, he has taken a u-turn and done something completely different. He is a delivery boy in the movie (Yes, you are allowed to gasp now).

The story which the director has tried to tell us, but failed miserably in his attempt to do so, revolves around a righteous son who goes to Malaysia to try and recover his missing father’s debt, but lands upon an illegal diamond racket (where his father is being trapped) instead.
It took me 2 days and 3 Saravana Bhavan Double strong coffees to figure this out.

Keeping with the title, Vijay does a lot of flying. He flies out of gutters (and still keeps dry), He flies from parapet walls/3rd floor sunshades (and lands on both feet), but the piece de resistance, is the time he flies across nearly 50 metres from a terrace onto a railway track and he gets in the train, without a scratch. And before you can choke on your popcorn and say WTF, he is escaping from a locked cage 100 feet into the river. Houdini has clearly met his match.

Moving on. There is Suman, the “Villain” in the movie. Comedian, more like. As if his Merv-Huges mustache wasn’t comic enough, his character’s name is “Gocha”. He is the kingpin of the illegal diamond smuggling racket and is aided by Ashish-I-never-get-sick-of-saying-the-same-lines-in-all-my-movies-Vidhyarthi, the local Politician-thug. He comes in and out of the movie, screams unneccessarily till his lungs (and our ears) get sore and occasionally spouts telugu wisdom while kicking random slave-miners.
Suman’s sister is played by Trisha. It should be noted that there is more chemistry in a commerce textbook than between the lead pair. Apparently she is the younger sister of a multi-billionaire but has never traveled by plane. However, the best scene to capture her incredible acting prowess would the one where Gocha proclaims that he has managed to kill “Kuruvi” ie, Vijay. She has the same amount of shock that one does when one learns that the nearby drug store is giving expired Crocin tablets at half price. Shattering indeed.
The pace of the movie is something that has to be written about. Everytime something remotely important/plot changing happens, which is by itself a rare occurence, a pointless song crops up. Like 2 minutes before the climax, when our hero goes out in search of the baddies, the scene cuts to the heroine ‘fantasizing’ and then comes the ‘mozhamozhannu yamma yamma’ (roughly translates to soft soft mommy mommy. Deep man, just deep.) song leaving the audience at the edge of their tempers/blood pressure limits.
The music in the movie is remarkably average. The rap song is just plain noise, the ‘pallanadhu’ song is annoying, ‘thaen’ is listenable but sounds strangely familiar, which leaves the hero’s intro song and ‘mozha..’ both which are below average. Nothing particularly memorable which is surprising considering Vidhyasagar usually gives good stuff.

In the end, Kuruvi is definetely is a movie that breaks barriers. Vijay did take absurdity to a new height with ATM, but this time he has outdone his previous efforts. So kindly do your sanity a favour and let it pass.


What do you get when you have leftover coconut chutney from dinner, Amma’s new terracota tumblers, Appa’s old veshti (dhoti), and a brand new Digicam?

A new template.
I am so proud of this banner, every little detail is original. It’s an awesome feeling, almost as if this banner is my baby.
A wee bit crazy, yes.
But that’s exactly what I am.
After all, I went snapping at chutneyfied terracota tumblers propped on veshtis.

Thank you Sony, for producing the bestest in Professional Amateur Cameras.
And thank you, Adobe Photoshop, you always make me feel like God.

Moving Day!

Machis, Maaplais and Galeej Boys.

As a fervent participant of the Aiyiyo-I’m-screwed-if-they-find-out-about-this-blog-in-office movement, I have moved. Kindly look to (I could have just shifted to another blog host instead of getting my own domain, but then again, that’s not me now, is it?) for your dose of fresh chutney.

As a follow up to the aforesaid revolution, I will be deleting the blog as well, hence making the old bloglink pretty much useless.

Romba thank you.


I have currently been posted on audit at this incredible place called Andhra Club (ASCA, officially). Incredible because, the moment you step in there, its like you’ve jumped across a few 1000 miles and stepped into Andhra Pradesh. The rapid telugu, the smell of biriyani, the “muhaha-you-are-tamil” looks and of course, their major obsession with bling-bling.
My colleague (he had already been in this audit twice) had warned about the finance department though. Apparently they were not too helpful and had a rather incomprehensible sense of humour. Incomprehensible he said, because they’d keep talking in telugu (which he had no knowledge of) and laugh.
A day or two into the audit later, our team had gone to the finance department to get a few queries clarified. As we were talking, an attender came with packets of buttermilk and offered it to us, which we declined. It was 11 am and we weren’t thirsty. When the finance manager saw us declining, he started in Telugu again.
Here’s an interesting fact, I know Telugu. Whenever there’s nothing good going on in the channels I usually watch, I see Gemini TV. 3 or 4 colourful ’80s Telugu movies later, I could understand the language pretty well. And my father spoke good telugu so we would conversate in that language to piss my mother off.
Anyhow, the manager started talking about how we declined buttermilk because that and curd rice was what we always eat at home anyway and on cue, everyone there smirked. My colleagues didn’t have a clue obviously, they just went about their work.
When we came back to the auditor’s room, my feeling was more of amusement than irritation. Ignorance is a funny thing. My colleagues were ignorant of telugu and our extremely witty manager was ignorant of the fact that one particular thayir saadham case had a rather large molaga hidden inside.
10 minutes later, my senior sent me to the department again to get some A4 sheets. As I went in, smirks went round again. I walked up to the manager.
“Sir, Naaku A4 sheet kaawali”
(sir, I want A4 sheets)
“Meeru Telugu…matladuthaara?”
(you…speak telugu?)
“Manager gaaru, Naaku baaga telsu”
(Manager sir, i know Telugu very well)
“Oh…ok..sari madam…a4 sheet akkada undhi, teeskundi teeskundi”
(Oh…ok..yes madam, a4 sheets are over there, please take)

And thus, my day was made. Although I wish Andhra Club had surveillance cameras. I would have made a lot of money selling a picture his incredibly deranged mug as a novelty item on eBay.

Andhra Pradesh is known for its extra-spiciness. Its contagious, I tell you. Maybe I should change my name to Gongkura chutney.
On a different note, the staff there now talk to me in telugu which is screwed up considering my speaking skills are half baked while I had peethifyed about my telugu prowess as though I’m NTR’s onnu vitta chittapa ponnu. As they say in that gulti-land – Emi Baadha sir iddi.

But where has all the rum gone?

I’m broke. Honestly. I have no cash. My wallet looks fat but then again, that’s because of all the bills and tickets that I stuff in. My liquidity is at an all time low. This is especially stupid since I don’t use cash for anything other than auto or coffee and still clock a rather formidable 4 digit figure every month. My parents call me the in-house Stock Market, since their money always disappears where I’m concerned.

I know I’m spending, but I just don’t know what I’m spending it on. I don’t have a fixed pocket money system. It’s the ‘ask-and-you-shall-get’ system which is followed at home, which is convenient from my point of view since there’s pretty much no limit. But then again, being a 19 year old these days is no cheap joke.

Conveyance is one major issue. The Auto guys in Chennai are of a different breed. The word “meter” evokes laughter/head-slapping or the statement “Enna oorr-ku pudusa?” (are you new in town?). I don’t even know why they bother installing that contraption here. So a trip from my place to the Office takes a good 60 bucks. Double that, and that’s like the minimum I spend per day. Hey, before everyone gets all public transportation on me, let me tell you, I used to take the bus, until I had to experience a close encounter of the uncle kind. I will not step into a bus, no way. Dad dropping me is one possibility but I get second preference for destination which means I have to take a joyride around the city before I get to office so, that doesn’t work out great either. Two-wheelers are out of question as well, since my parents are paranoid of the traffic. So until I get my own car,I have pretty much no choice but to spend on Ricks.

I’m not in a relationship. More savings you’d think what with most of my committed friends going “Aiyyo Amma” everytime I ask them about their wallet scenario. Also, I recently read in some newspaper that if you were to save only the money you spent on your respective girlfriend/boyfriend you can fund a trip to the Whats-it islands north of the Bermuda triangle. Not true, since the philosophy is that if you want to spend, you will spend. I’m a perfect example. I spend enough to make people believe that I’m not in one relationship, but in 3.

But I do have a social life. Going out for coffee with the gang means more money flying out of the window. And you meet up with these guys only once a month and what better way to talk about the good ol’ times than spending on double priced drinks?

Going for a movie isn’t too cheap either. Movie tickets are 100 bucks per head, minimum if you want to go to a decent Multiplex like Satyam or Inox. I think Six Degrees charges nearly 150.
I went to Inox in Bangalore and spent 300 bucks on a ticket once. We saw Welcome. Don’t ask, I’m still in pain.

I don’t spend on phone recharge. That’s because I’m on postpaid. And its CUG postpaid. Which means no one knows how much I blow per month, except me. And Dad’s bills are always over the top so I get away scot-free.

Clothes, shoes, accessories, I don’t spend cash. Credit card only.

So in the end, it all boils down to Autorickshaws. But I think my parents, even with all their “In my days my weekly allowance was Rs. 10” speeches are okay with that. After all, its better to spend on Ricks than on Ricky.

Excuse me while I marvel at my own wit.

Suggestions on how to pinch my penny are welcome.