When the Jay tweets

One fine August eclipse Dec 25, 2009 It was without the huge hype and hooplah of the celestial event that floated a month back that this 'person' upstairs decided to unveil (or veil) yet another spectacle just for me.To think of being unfortunate to be chained down south and not on the eclipse belt , the opportunity to witness the longest solar eclipse for any living being during his life span,this gift came to me unsolicited and begs to throw open the chains of my agnostic existence. The previous day my dad had brought home a packet of samosas from the bhelpuri wallah parked just outside our home and he trudged home grumbling all along about the swelling on his feet.The month of 'Karkkidaka' according to him is a harbinger to all the diseases in the world and should be dealt cautiously perhaps with a plate full of greasy spicy samosas.Eyeing the samosas all the time with a touch of disdain my maratha queen got into battle mode proclaiming that Karkkidaka gets trans...

My earliest impressions of him goes back to the Indo Pak war of 71’ when I could see him tuning into the BBC to get the latest updates on the war front.Punjab and Bengal was what I could decipher through the suave ramblings of the firangi newscaster and forced myself to believe that these countries were at war. All that I cared for was the tuna sandwich which he conjured up for both his kids like a magician. He excelled in the kitchen.The long years of bachelor life in Bahrain had made him into a numero uno chef helped by the right kind of prodding from his mates in his living quarters. All through the extreme climate he remained a sworn teetotaller though his refrigerator was always stocked with crates of Heineken and Carlsberg as I remember it. The bar in the house was frugal and I guess the guests who turned up on Friday evenings to savour his patent ‘Jeeraka Chicken’ brought their own stuff.Christmas was when we used to get treated with wine. His concept of wine drinking was quarte...

The ‘flood’ of events that bamboozled my naive sense had myself locked in a cocoon of thoughts over the frivolity of human wisdom. The deluge of the century had caught us napping and we as a state ,ironically shaped like the Noah’s ark ,was busy searching the Noahs in ourselves. It was a glorious spectacle to see the collective response of the citizens putting away their differences for another day. Legends were born. The muck had not yet settled in their half washed away homes when the air turned murkier with the allegations from across the state border about being too ‘beefy’ on matters of accepting monetary help from compassionate neighbours. I ,till date believe that we malayalis were born with a flexible spine and the only state where we never allowed jingoistic ideals to derail our practical train of thought. For the first time in my life there is a call among us to wear the state as the trademark mallu moustache and stand up to the obstacles with a macho fervour. The ideals stam...

                       The air of expectancy was tantalisingly numbing to the knuckleheads seated around the table. It was past midnight and the hostel mess dinner had all but digested ,and ending up as nervous farts in an invisible firework display reserved for the Gods. The cards in our hands kept spiralling in and out across the table as orphaned children searching for a loving foster parent. The future engineers of this country were caught up in a game of rummy which opened to them the nuance of taking calculated risks in their future professional life. A false show of cards was termed ‘crank show’ which ultimately drains the lot of the money you bought to the table. I had painstakingly earned the sobriquet ‘Crankan ’ which even now sticks with me. The money which I could earn at the table could earn me nirvana at the ' thattu dosa ' outlet bordering our campus. I was hungry.             ...

Vasant Mama Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no one has gone before! The voice of Sir Patrick Stewart  as Captain Jean-Luc Picard at the beginning of each episode of Star Trek .... Much before being tied down with Amita,my role model of what I aspire to be growing old was portrayed in toto by this man of space,who still continues to be my role model.I didnt realise that there was a split image of my hero in another man till he flew past us a few days back. Amita's maternal grandmother's  youngest brother , Sri Vasant Mokashi ,who was the Regional Passport Officer ,Western region based in Mumbai Ten years have passed since this malayali tried to get his 'passport' stamped as he walks into a marathi household.Amita had always believed that Kerala was a different 'nation' housing strange peopl...

Staging a Stag The euphoria of the evening had not yet settled in .The play which was the centre piece of our lives for the past few week staged out to be the talk of the town.It was a huge success. Amita had flown in for the weekend to be a part of the bandwagon at the risk of losing her job in aamchi mumbai. She would die for her friends. Watching the play draw out magnificently, standing at the back as volunteers our minds chorused , we need to celebrate this success with the right ‘spirit’ and soak our tired bones. After the chest thumping rituals with the club members we drove back home, leaving each one of them to revel in the moment in peace. Not before I lashed out my intentions...we are celebrating....later. Amita watched my face go pale as I went over the message on my cell. It was a no brainier that we would be invited soon for this party soon enough. She snatched the phone from my hands . It was the desired invitation for the party heralding the virtues of keeping their res...

Dreams  21stNov2018 I had promised to conjure up this ‘dream’ for my friend and have just a few minutes to compose this into some semblance of an article. I need to quickly dream on..... They say dreams happen when you are in a  REM state of sleep. The only REM that keeps me pumping up this stench is perhaps my bloated ‘ Ridiculous Egoistic Musings’ that perhaps I would be a darling of the ‘penn’ kind someday. Ultimate penmanship is what all boys strive for. Freud and Jung have twisted and squeezed every bit of mystery about one’s dream but never have they explained as to what it is to dream BIG ,as echoed by the dime a dozen life gurus we meet everyday. The connotations of ‘big’ might vary with age and gender and most of us can’t fixate on what we exactly want big. It seems that an average human being spends six years of his life dreaming yet with no plausible finality. I dream as well, but all in a  veil of surrealistic clouds which might put Dali to shame. S...