When the Jay tweets

Matsya - It was a fish, the first of the ten avatars of Lord Vishnu   which saves the world from an impending calamity.   Whenever Adharma rears its ugly head, the Lord had vowed that he would visit the earth as our redeemer. No particular holy text specifies  the species of fish he incarnated as, and it was left to the believer to conjure up that imagery . If the Dasavathara   chronicle was ever written in Lakshadweep the tuna would have been the torch bearing avatar for sure. The whole sequence of evolution encapsulated in the ensuing avatars caught the imagination of the scientific world. It was in the 1930s that this plot was copied by the west and the two loggerheads Marvel and DC comics were at each others throats purging out superhero avatars in wanton, attempting to save the world. If Gotham city had Batman, I advocate that we have our very own Tuna man for Lakshadweep and rebrand our coral paradise associated this 'fishy' ambassador. The economy of th...

   My dad lived a long happy life. As far as my memory goes he never bothered much about our report cards and hardly gave me or my brother sermons like normal dads. At the very end, his magnum opus, he finally stamped out his lesson for me to decipher ,by playing out his adieu on my birthday.This Christmas Eve he might want us to carol Happy birth and Death day in the same breath.Frivolity of birth and life , the yin and yang juxtapositions hardly meant anything at that point of time. Every time I go sit with mom  he peers down ceremoniously from his frame with that quizzical smile so as to say...Did you guys get my cue? The only cue we got was absolute freedom to lay hand on two bottles he had brought down from Bahrain . My dad was a teetotaller and this was one of his 'spirited' ideas of sanitizing the  customs officials, as he came down for good.The bottles bobbed into Kochi shores unscathed and he kept it uncorked for forty long years till this very moment!!It ...

Mr Mahabali is in a pensive mood.                   The sponsored annual holiday trip invitation to Kerala from the ever obsequious ‘beverages corporation’was intimated to him with more than a fervent prayer this year.The much anticipated arrival of the ‘spirit’ of Mahabali was the only hope to bring in the much needed cheer to the gloomy covid days. Mahabali sat brooding as his limelight was snatched away by a lasso wielding cowboy from the south, strutting a buffalo. Once upon a time Bali too was relegated down south by a certain dwarf incarnation of the Lord .This doppelganger of a neighbour needed to be stopped in his tracks before he could carry out more of his sadistic rodeo stunts on the people. Mahabali to counter this ‘Buffalo Bill’ menace had brought in the ‘asura’ recipe of ‘porotta and beef dry fry’ to his beloved people. This ambrosia intoxicated malayali slowed down the progress of Bill as his ‘yama’ha vehicle often disappeared...

One Christmas eve a very long time ago I was born piloting the arrival of the ‘King of Jews’ and perhaps my grandfather was the only one to picture my hello( read halo ) through that crib . My grandfather , a pious man and a literary giant during his time must have had hallucinations of divinity encircling my crib and named me Jayadevan. Nobody has yet deciphered the true meaning of what my name implied and it got lost with him. God of victory,victory of God, or as my mother dismissed it ,a war cry..Victory to God!!!!…Har har Mahadev!!!! Puny mortals!! They failed to see the aura within me and censored the God(Deva) from my name. I became Jayan for them. Jayan in Sanskrit means victorious, much akin to the Malayalam movie star who ruled the silver screen during the 70's. Jayan went north all guns blazing at the height of his career in a chopper crash .My mother was perturbed when one of my high school teachers signed “be a Jayan in life” in my autograph book .Jayan was a movie st...

Pluck away the Corona The times which we are going through needs one to be ‘plucky’ and pave a new path for the future, it pays to be optimistic at times. Not in a million years did I believe that I would be so cornered as to take up my dusty old guitar and pluck away at her guts with such savage readiness. Why now??????????? The lockout  mandates that you stay cooped up indoors and bore yourself to death. I could have gone for any other direction other than my guitar as I have always done , since I bought her a couple of decades ago aspiring to be the least,half a Clapton. Our love affair hardly lasted a week after I found out that she never responded orgasmic-ally to my touch. A couple of years after that let down my mind wandered and infidelity crept in with vengeance. I got married. Amita was never overawed by her curves and played a step motherly attitude to her hollow nature.There was this mysterious coquetry which used to zip through me as I passed by her the following...