Neighbor's Envy Owner's Pride

On the way to the carwash

"Sir, your keys ??"
"Here"



"But Sir, I need your keys"
"These are my keys"
"But sir, there is no key"
"Ah, you have noticed, yes"
"So I need the key, sir"
"But this is the key"
The serviceman is bewildered, and then I explain everything, followed by a smirk and a closing tagline for the blog, "Neighbors Envy, Owner's Pride", everyone who visits the blog laughs hard.

At the carwash,

"See, you know .. "
"Yes sir, I push the button it starts the car".
This without even turning around to look at me.

Now I know how it feels to have a dozen eggs on the face.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Our Story

Conceding that this blog is inspired by the genre-defining "Pudhu Pettai" would be an embarassment. Let us say the truth lies somewhere closer to the fact that I am no good at Science Fiction stories. With studios churning out epic after epic with an ever-increasing body count and gallons of ketchup-blood, unsurprisingly, I decided to narrate one of the bloodiest encounters from my own personal life.

A rainy evening in Madurai. 4 teenagers standing around a friend of theirs, all of them seemingly agitated. The camera swoops in on them from the roof of the nearest building and freezes on each of the guys with a voice over.
Voice Over: The guy in the center, breathing like a 1770s locomotive, is Veerasamy a.k.a Veera. Veera is a curious kid with an interesting disposition. If he wanted to know how the color Green would look like, he wouldn't hesitate to kick Dr. Bruce Banner in the face. The guy next to him is Anbu. Anbu aspires to be a terror to any batsman on the field, but in reality is a terror only to the parents of a teenage girl who lives next door. The third guy is Kannan. Kannan is one of the biggest optimists anyone has known. He watches every Vijayakanth movie on the day of the release hoping that atleast this one would be good. That lean thing between Guy #3 and Guy #2 is definitely not an electric wire. That is Muthu a.k.a Baasha. The undisputed leader of the band and yes, a live wire. That fat thing right next to Muthu is not a sack of rice. That is Arunthur. He is not worth describing.

The camera now shows Veera up close, heaving. Cuts to a black-and-white sequence in a hand-held camera of a fight between two teams playing a cricket match. Veera heaves. Cut to a b&w sequence: the umpire declaring our team as winners and us, particularly Veera, laughing at the losers who swear they wouldn't let us play the Final if we ever get there. Veera heaves again. Cut to a b.w.s: Veera, on his way to the Final, runs into said team and rubs it in. Veera continues to heave. Cut to a b.w.s: Veera, on the way back home, gets way laid in a dark alley by guys equipped with dangerous weapons. Veera doesn't appear to stop heaving.

The camera now swivels around the rest of the gang. Each one showing a distinct facial expression that can be caused either by indigestion or extreme rage.
"When ??"
"8 PM"
"Where ??"
"5th Ave and 14th Street"
A nod of the head and the message is understood. We are going to hit back. They don't mess with us. Heck, Nobody messes with us. With no words spoken everyone hurries back home. When everyone is back and ready to leave, it hits Arunthur that folks didn't go home just to change. Arunthur commits the biggest blunder that hitman ever can. He forgot to pick his tools.

"Be right back", says Arunthur and runs home. His first weapon of choice is always the sickle which the maid uses to cut thorny bushes. As he lifts it high up seeing the glint reflect on his face, Cut to b.w.s. with h.h. camera and shaky effect : A much younger Arunthur coming home after watching Devar Magan, seeing the sickle lying around, trying to imitate the scene where Kamal picks one from behind, drawing a straight bloody line from the coccyx uptil the neck, dropping the sickle, suppressing a scream and running to the shower. No, not a sickle. Not too handy. It was then that Arunthur finds his Excalibur.

Cut to the rendezvous point and everyone notices a movement in the darkness. Arunthur, spurred by his new found courage, takes a step forward. Veera puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him.
"Never enter the dark. That is where they have people hidden in vehicles with weapons", says Veera, scanning the darkness with his eyes. Arunthur's courage takes the next flight to Timbuctoo on a one-way ticket. People hidden in vehicles ?? Who are we dealing with here exactly ??

"Ahoy. Is that you guys ??", screamed Muthu.
"Yes", came a strong voice back.
"Come out from the darkness. We want to see you", Muthu screams back.
A beat.
"No, you guys come here", this time there was a visible twitch.
Arunthur and folks look at each other.
"No, you guys come out".
Silence.
"No, you guys come here".
After some heavy persuasion and prolonged screams of "You first", both the gangs decide to take a few steps forward and meet in semi-darkness which is exactly when the lightning cracks, showing us a glimpse of the opponen't contingnet. Clearly outnumbering us 1 to 2. Muthu and Veera walk up to meet two from the other gang while Arunthur is now hanging at the tail end of the pack with the others, trying to remember how he walked into this.

Everytime Veera screams at the top of his voice pointing fingers at the opponents, Arunthur winces when they are going to scream to the mercenaries hidden in the dark. "Try to look least bothered. Don't let them see you bleeding. It's okay to be scared, but don't show it", Arunthur tells himself. As the animated discussion with over-exaggerated movement of limbs goes on in the middle, Arunthur looks from end to end for that hidden vehicle and it's illustrated occupants and mentally finalises the escape routes for him and his friends if and when the opponents give the "Go Ahead" signal (Read: Running for dear life with Army of men yelling expletives chasing). At the end of the discussion, the signal comes. Only it was Muthu waving for the rest of the gang to join in. A truce had been achieved. But what happens next takes everyone by surprise. The opponents want to apologise to Veera. Game, Set and Match - Us. No chases, no weapons, no blood and the War has been won.

Walking back home, smarting over this political victory, Arunthur slowly wipes off the sweat from the back of his neck when no one is looking. Veera suddenly stops all of them.
"Everyone did well, but Arunthur, you were awesome"
"Me ?? Eh .. Really ?? Umm, Why .. exactly ??"
"You know that careless look in your eyes, scanning the area for surprises and not to mention, your size. That definitely put them on the backfoot"
Arunthur has made his bones. Arunthur is now a force to reckon. The next time anyone is in trouble, Arunthur is going in and will do his thing (careless look, hand gestures, looking end to end) and scare the crap out of mobsters. Arunthur might even wear a tuxedo and make offers that people cannot refuse.

"Actually, it was nothing really. With my tool in hand, I don't think I will ever be scared".
"Tool ?? What tool ??"
"This", says Arunthur, showing his Excalibur. A letter opener. Even if the sharpness didn't get them, the rust would have.
"Sheesh, you brought something, this, for what ??"
"I don't know. What did you guys bring ??"
"Nothing".
"What ?? Nothing ?? But all you guys went home !!"
"I went to wear my belt", quips one.
"I went to change my slippers", chirps the other.
"I had had heavy lunch in the afternoon", confesses the third. Arunthur now knows it wasn't anger on his face in the introductory frame with the voice over.
"Seriously, you can't cut even wet paper with this letter opener" and everyone laughs.

Arunthur contemplates a career in mountain climbing and diving head first from there.

From the end credits:

- The "opponent gang" that had around eight or nine people, all of them severly malnourished.
- The dangerous weapons they used to hurt Veera are widely known as hands and legs.
- The word "Tool" does not convey the punch the word "poruL" conveys in Thamizh. Nope. Never in a hundred years.
- It didn't rain that evening. The wet look was included to give Arunthur and his friends some authenticity.
- Arunthur only scratched a portion of his back trying to take the sickle from his back. But more blood means more realistic and hard hitting, and by effect, cult classic.
- 5th Ave and 14th Street are probably in NewYork. In Madurai, you have Keezha Maasi Veedi and Azhagar Kovil Road. The real incident happened near some nameless alley opposite Bhai Kadai.
- A little "extra-fitting" to an average story never hurt.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Cauliflower Manchurian

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MGRstill rules the "By-pass Buses" segment. What are the odds of you having to watch "Ulagam Sutrum Vaaliban" (Travelling Youth - Ashokan as Evil Scientist and RS Manohar as Head Henchman With Scar On Left Cheek), "Engal Thangam" (Our Gold - Ashokan as Evil Landlord and RS Manohar as Head Henchman With Scar On Right Cheek) and Rickshawkaran("Rickshaw Driver" - Ashokan as Evil Businessman and RS Manohar as Head Henchman With Scar On One Of Them Cheeks ) on three different buses successively ??

In Rickshawkaran, Manjula is handed down a severe punishment by her principal, is forced to appear before the college management committee and is almost thrown out of college - all because there is a picture of her and her boyfriend (MGR) taken in a beach and this has brought disrepute to the college. I recommend this principal be transferred to DPS, Delhi.

Sleeping with your cheek on the glass window in a crowded bus - Good.
Waking up in the middle of the night and be able to read the lettering on a tanker lorry carrying fuel that is inches away - Bad.
By-pass riders do not just by-pass the inner roads, they by-pass your next 40+ years on Earth.

It took me 45 minutes to guess the name of the river that runs through a town called KaveriPattanam. A clear sign of age catching up with me.

Thiruvalluvar, Pisirandhayar, Avvaiyar, Ilangovadigal and their likes would do good to stay where they are and control their urge to visit their native land. How would you feel if an old uncle you hated kept mistaking you for your aunt because you look like her when she was young ?? If the answer is anywhere in the vicinity of "disappointed", try remembering that ல is not ள. And ள is most definitely not ழ். Same goes for the ன, ண and ந family too. The state of ர் and ற isn't far behind either. These are _not_ interchangeable even if they sound similar, just like you and your aunt are not because you look similar. No. Why don't we all just continue our stellar job at destroying the written english language with our "hv"s, "2morrow"s and "4 me"s and let Thamizh die it's natural death ?? தமிழுக்கு வன்தனை செய்யாவிடினும், நின்தனை செய்யாதிருத்தல் நலம்.
ps: Any error is attributed to the style sheet and the style sheet only.

A rare celestial event went unnoticed on sunday. I managed to cross the (in)famous Bommanahalli traffic crossing without having to rest both of my feet on the ground once (And yes, smart aleck, I was riding a two wheeler). Can you believe that ?? The Bommanahalli circle without vechicles ?? The Bommanahalli circle, which is the Bermuda Triangle of Bangalore where just about every running vehicle gets sucked into, empty of them ?? Miracles do happen when you least expect them. All you people who work (or worked) in Electronic City or Garvebhavipalya are either shedding copious tears of joy / holding the hand of the person next to you and leaning on their shoulder with a glint of hope in your eyes / lighting candles with a big smile like in the airtel ad / other generic inspirational gestures. Wake up, It's not going to happen again in the next million years.

Thamizhnadu has its share of funny sounding towns. Take for example Vaadipatti (Come Here Town) and Thaadikombu (Bearded Stick) near Vaadipatti. That isn't all. There is a town called Gobi (Cauliflower in Hindi) near Erode. Nope, it's not over, on the way to Gobi, I see this town called OthaKudhirai (Lonely Horse) near Gobi. Before I could go "Eh, what ??", I cross this next town called KavundhaBaadi (Upturned Body ??). I decided not to pursue it further.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

This Just In

Hotel barons the world over are huddled together to fight this new phenomenon at their hotels which lacks any kind of sophisitication and that suave 'thing' but somehow manages to sneak in, courtesy his corporate sponsor.

Sorry brother, We are here and here to stay.

Receptionists at said hotel recoil at the mention of said phenomenon which carries assorted eatable items (viz. Cold Coffee, Banana Cake) in a transparent plastic cover when they are readily available in the same room.

With a price tag that would buy the kauravas and their extended family dinner for a single day, if I may add.


Porters at said hotel are perplexed by the phenomenon who has seemingly forgotten the art of generous tipping.

I carry my own luggage, is that so difficult to understand ??

Room servicemen are rooted to their feet about how this phenomenon manages to stay away from anything and everything that has a charge in the room, but always manages to finish the complimentary water bottles.

The watch word here is "complimentary"

Workmen at the Kortumalai Pillayar Restaurant are wondering at how this phenomenon walks more than a kilo meter for dinner when said hotel has not one, not two but five restaurants.

Onion uthappam with two chutneys and regular sambar. Even ten kilo metres wouldn't stand a chance.

Anthropologists world over are astounded at discovering that watching an episode of "Metti Oli" all alone on a sunday afternoon in a foreign land on a 42" plasma TV isn't the worst form of torture.

Actually, it has been updated to watching two back-to-back episodes.

Fashion gurus are flabbergasted at this new style of power dressing which includes a semi-formal shoe, a formal pant and a round neck t-shirt.

Trust me, I thought the laundry price tag was some jewellery advertisement

Wall street is worried at the sudden increase in demand for cabbage and appalam from South East Asia.

When everything on the menu involves something bovine or poultry or some squishy looking thing that gives you nightmares, what do you expect ??

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Lightning Strikes Twice

Dear Mr. Murphy,

Hope you doing well. In fact, am positive you are doing well. Because I am not. Where do I start ?? Maybe with the fact that you plotted the receipt of my invitation letter on a Friday afternoon ?? Yes, that meant I can get it across to the travel desk only on monday.

On monday, you ensured that I looked my worst (ah, just a figure of speech. my last "looking best" was in 1980 when I was taken to a studio for a portrait). You also ensured that there was a crazy rule in the embassy which required me to have a visa picture with a white background - which means that I cannot use my standard, digitally-enhanced, homo-sapien look-alike photo that I usually give. You strategically increase the temperature that day to ensure that there are no significant differences between my face and a kuwaiti oil well. You make me lazy enough not to shave, but active enough to pick up the reddest shirt that mankind has ever designed. The staff at the embassy would have been wondering if this was a request to "donate generously for my cardiovascular operation on my left toe" or "to intimate all nearby police stations on sight and stay a few hundred metres away at all costs".

You delay the visa by a day quoting "late receipt". You delay it by another day quoting "high inflow". You delay it for yet another day quoting "in transit". Just when I was about to use that as an excuse, you send it across to me in pristine condition, guess when, on a friday evening - yes, after elvis had left the building. You make the travel desk folks set a time of 11am on saturday to receive the passport. You make me decide in favor of staying back at office over night instead of having to make two trips to office. You make the travel desk folks give me my passport after four excruciating hours of wait where I almost ate a biscuit packet including the cover. Just as I collect all my documents and head out you tap me on my back and say four letters. E. C. N. R. I hear three more words. B.A.M. I also uttered a four letter word which rhymes closely with duck.

Hungrier than King Kong, I lug my bag around and walk out and you throw open the water taps of heaven. When I dare to take it head on, you open it up even further. I give up and run back into office. You slow it down because the fun is just about starting. I fall for it and you catch me at a traffic signal where the wait time is 130 seconds. This time, you just open up all the valves. I go home wet wanting to get some work done and you chuckle at me saying I left the power cord at work. I remind of you the battery and you remind me that I drained it already at work, thanks to my laziness to bend down and fix the loose plug.

I still have monday to get my ECNR. You still have time to suddenly declare a national holiday and close out the passport office for a week. I am not carrying any formal wear. You can suddenly make it a country wide practice there. My laptop is slightly older, you can safely crash the hard disk. I would be going out in the open today, you can throw down a lightning and finish it off once for all. Ah, you wouldn't do that, would you ?? Who would kill their favorite poster boy ??

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Home, Home Again

Dhoni takes over from Sachin, Aishwarya, Aamir and Shahrukh and sells almost everything, including Mysore Sandal Soap.

The centuries-old plan of going straight and taking a left/right at the upcoming sharkal (circle, for people who are weak in english) is the best way to get from Point A to Point B. No mapquest, no google maps and no GPS.

The success or failure of your trip depends on the number of chocolates you bring from the US.

There is a laughing club in my complex with members older than independent India. I am not sure if its a good idea to hold their daily classes adjacent to the jogging track where people of different dimensions huff and puff their way to fat reduction. I dread the day I am going to join them.

Traffic still seems to be a game of mutual trust where a honk could mean anywhere between "you trying to fit in your monster tempo into that miniscule space between me and and the other biker ?? get a life, you evil-minded tempo-driver" to "groan".

A scene from yesterday's "Thaga Thaga Thaga Thaga Thanga Vettai"
A disproportionate Ramya Krishnan: "The pandavas were how many in number ??"
Kid with big, uneasy smile who would sing 'Kalyanandhan Katikkitu odi polama' without missing a beat: (looks at the ceiling for divine intervention)
ADRK: "Who was the king who vowed that he would never lie ??"
Another KWBUSWWSKKOPWMAB: (this one has a change of tactics and looks at the flooring now, again looking for divine intervention)
The future is bright. Its exploding right in front of our eyes into smithereens.

That lady from Koothupattarai still gets roles where she cries over the death/accident/arrest/other social calamity of her son/daughter. Her impressive track record contains glycerine-guzzling roles from Muthalvan (as Arjun's mom who floods the streets when the house is demolished), Ramana (as the mother of Unidentified Detainee and his High School going Sister) and Sudeshi (as mother of young school boy who gets killed by atrocious school teacher and his high maintenance wife). Forgetting how to laugh is an occupational hazard in her line of work.

Its great to go home and have piping hot food ready to be served. No more soul-searching questions of what to cook today so that it would hold up till day after tomorrow. No more fear of gruesome death by food poisoning.

The flyover connecting double road and richmond road still holds the record for being the only flyover in the world which has a makeshift traffic signal (a wiry cop running between buses with a stop sign in one hand and his life in the other). The flyover in Bannerghatta road beats Sudoku for a challenging puzzle. In a twist of fate, the airport road flyover looks to take more time to be operational than the completeion of the new international airport. Welcome to Bangalore where a flyover is a subtle hint for you to actually try and fly over.

I played a small game of wink-wink-grin-grin with a 3 year old kid in my apartment complex. I also did kichu-kichu in the dimples of that kid. All this without the fear of being reported to the police.

Its not essentially a bad thing to come back from the US without having any concrete plans of going back again. Really.

The number of people who realise that going to the US has absolutely nothing to do with individual talent or excellence goes up by atleast 1.

JP Nagar perumal kovil puliyodarai rocks. Sue me for being corny.

"Dent."
"Ah, Yes Truman"
"Do you know the story of a young prince by the name Rama who left his home for 14 years ??"
"Ah, yes"
"He came back after building the first trans-oceanic bridge known to man, fought a great warrior and finally flew back in a chariot tugged by swans"
"Ah, yeah"
"You, on the other hand left home for just 14 months and all that you did was to eat junk food, download megabytes of songs, watch NFL and finally flew back in economy class"
"Ah, yes."
"Does that put things in perspective ??"
"Yes. So ..."
"So, shut up".

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...