Neelambari’s Choice

Disclaimer: Strictly for Padayappa fans !! or Neelambari fans!! Just a sneak peek into Neelambari’s after life

 

“Avan vazhi, epavumae thani vazhi”

I never regretted the choice I made. He was still the best I could ever get. The brave-heart who causally held a six foot long snake and stole my heart. I grew fond of his aggressiveness, his  valor, his voice and his STYLE. The man of my desire, he was , best of the best, the complete man. Prince of my dreams, maestro of my mind and the controller of my thoughts. I just couldn’t resist thinking about him. Lost I was in lust. He was only mine. No one had the right to have him.

Our challenging challenge – our duet in my brother’s engagement – the sheer taste of him when my lips touched his cheek – are all memories etched deep in my heart. Unforgettable they were and will be. The simple STYLE he has and the powerful WORDS he spoke still ring in my ears.

I could only be the perfect match to his qualification and handsomeness, but blinded he was behind that illiterate maid of mine, who stole him from my life. Still couldn’t console myself that why a man of his intelligence would go after an innocent faced dumb girl like Vasundhara leaving a fine danseuse like me. She just shattered my life with him. Lucky she was, in escaping death twice from fate’s clutches.

We could have sung together, danced together, enjoyed the best of a lifetime – together. He forced me into destroying his life by rejecting me and choosing that servant girl over me; It was he who killed my father and provoked my anger. Anger which burst out eventually causing all the pandemonium.

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He will always be mine. Only mine.

By now he might have become an old grandpa. Old but handsome with the same mighty voice. So what if I nearly lost to him in one life. I just did not give up, following my ethics. I never compromised, even to the slightest. I have more lives to go – and in my next life I will be Mrs. Neelambari Padayappa. Nothing stops me from achieving him by winning his heart.

“Indha Neelambari nenachaa nichayama mudiyum!!”

 

PS: For the Jodi post Asha Sunil and I picked the female point of view in lost love as our theme. Check out her post at Jessie’s Choice

PPS: This post is written for the ‘love theme‘ contest by The Chennai Bloggers Club in association with woodooz and Indian Superheroes .

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Valentine’s day 2017

This time it was in Old Delhi !!!

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Chole + Amla + Bhature. Too hungry to even capture it.

 

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The menu looks long but they serve only Chole Bhature. Quaint but delicious food.

 

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From Sadar Bazaar to Nayi Galli. Fellow valentines sitting at my back. First time shared the drivers seat, and we knocked away just three pedestrians!!

 

 

 

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The migratory street food of Old Delhi : Daulat ki chaat !! Pseudo bucket list  

 

P.S. Crowd did not permit us to take pics of falooda and chaat. On an average we were pushed along the roads about 30-40 times. You will end up shopping things which you did not intend to buy. And of course you will overeat drooling over street food.

The conflict of words or worlds?

Most of us in India are used to knowing more than one language fluently, English being one and a native or a regional language being the other. Some of us who grow up shifting after every few years, learn more than two languages. I reiterate my point here, we learn more than two languages. This learning does not comprise knowing reading, writing or comprehending the language well, it could just be knowing any one of the three verticals well.

I just came back from my critical writing class today, where  we had to give feedback to our peers on the reflection pieces which were written after reading Jhumpa Lahiri’s ‘In Other Words’. The book was written in Italian, a language Lahiri learnt, simply because she loved it and wanted to write a book in it. Assuming that I and only few more people in my class would have troubled minds, being familiar with more than four languages, I found out that knowing even two languages could be difficult after a feedback session. Our mind speaks one language and tongue another depending on the place we are. Parents might speak the native tongue, teachers speak the professional tongue and our friends delight us with colloquial.

How much control does language have in the way we think and act? Which language helps us to reflect deep within us, our thoughts and desires?

Several voices talk lout loud within us, (some in our heads, some around us and the others in the hearts), and there are some, which we barely listen to. The feeble ones are the powerful voices, which we keep hearing again and again, yet choose to ignore. One never realizes its importance, because it is not loud enough. The loud voices are not even ours, but someone else’s whom we hear and choose to follow.

How often do we dump the feeble voice, which possibly can be our own, trying to convey just the right choice, which makes us happy instead of making the people around us happy?

 

 

The DEMONetisation Drama

The play is set in the times subsequent to 8th November 2016, when three Shakesfear fans have been deprived of the demonetization policy which ends up in the following conversation:

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FYI

Scene I  Act I:

A: How dost thou, get money from the ATM?

B: Methinks, thou hast to tarry for hours to get money…

A: Thou thinkest ’tis such an easy job? Methinks not; Mine pockets hast only ₹150 and I know not how to pass this week, without shopping and eating.

B: Fie o’ you. Me hast three ₹1000 notes 😛

A: I prithee. Thou hast money, but still thou is helpless. I give thee my patience, to stand in the long ques in front of banks to exchange old notes.

B: In sooth, take a look at my phone.

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B: Me son, Z quoth, that students stood for 3 hours in front of the ATM and got nought, ‘mongst ’tis.

A: Wherein happen’d ’tis?

B: Z’s University.

Scene I  Act II:

C:  Mr.A, come hither.

A: Yes my Lord C.

C: What news thou hast for us?

A: Lord ’tis he who hast done this to thou Lord, ’tis he (pointing towards a man’s face in the front page of the newspaper)

C: Me knowest, that everyone shall suffer. Thou shalt recharge thy metro card for ₹5000, as me not knowest where to spend the old notes.

A: Bethink oneself my Lord. ₹5000 for metro card? Too much of an investment.

C: Quoth I, do.

A: Yes my Lord.

C: I shalt bethink myself, and thou hast to find new ways of spending old notes, rather than metro cards.

A: My Lord, methought, we could go to Qutub Minar. Monuments accept’d old notes for a week.

C: Let us spend the notes there, today evening.

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Scene II  Act I:

A,B and C go to Qutub Minar, and exchange a ₹1000 note, after a brawl with the ticket vendor, who doesn’t agree to take in the note for only three tickets.

Ticket vendor: Buy 8 or more tickets, else give me change.

A: Sir, me hast only one ₹1000 note.

Ticket vendor: Quick you cream faced loon.

A: Tarry a bit and mind your words.

B: Mr.A, ’tis family behind thee hast five members, thou canst buy five more tickets, and get change from them.

A: Good idea my lord.

A hands over the money and buys 5 more tickets, which they sell it to the family standing behind them in the que. One ₹1000 note is spent and exchanged.

Scene III  Act I:

The same story continues even after two weeks. Money is spent for useless purposes.

A: How is thou son Z?

B: Me sends money through post to Z everyday. Z spends a lot, maketh me poor, in ’tis fiscal deficit.

A: Me hast not touch’d or seen ₹2000 note yet.

B: Thou not shout. Keep calm. Me saw one, touch’d one with me hands but dost not have one.

C comes waving a new purple coloured note.

C: Here is the first one thou art gonna touch Mr.A.

A: Thou didst it, my Lord. H’as got the swag.

C: Laziness, do not become a man.

A: Lord, me knowest, ’twas B who stood in the long ques to get cash. Thou art lazy, like me.

C: Thou art unfit for any place except but hell. Thou  DEMON!!! Thou***!!

The play ends!!!

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Why Shakesfear why??

 

With lots and lots of errors,
A ShakesFear student ❤ 

“How my life changed since I started writing/blogging”

 A mischievous school life. Some fun loving friends. Cool parents. Life was at its best when our protagonist was twelve. Her parents were avid readers of fiction, but she never read anything beyond fairy tales. Perhaps her interest was not reading alone. She wanted to explore the world beyond that. She loved roaming out in the corridors when classes were going. Basketball was her love, though she was not good at it. The world of writing never bothered her much. In another stint of remaining truant from class, she decided to participate in a creative writing contest. Most of her friends had come prepared for it, unlike her whose solo motive was to bunk the maths class. She chose to write a funny poem about her mother, with crazy rhyming words to pass time. Two weeks later, when the results of the contest were announced, it was a shock to everyone, especially the third prize. Because it was our protagonist who had won it. And that was how everything began.

A year later in 2006, she started contributing her writings to a children’s magazine called Gokulam, who used to send back, up to Rs. 50 for each of her contributions. The first time her article got published, a postman came to her school to deliver a small certificate and Rs. 15 to her. He could have gone away after giving it to her, but he stayed back for around 20 minutes giving her a short motivational speech. He spoke about great writers, religious texts and how writing changes many things in life for some. The spark that a stranger ignited in the kid that day, remains lit even now!!

There was no stooping after that, more laurels poured in the later years. Her essay received a commendable certificate from the editor of a leading national magazine twice. It was her dream to write a book. A lifetime wish, not to achieve fame, or earn money, but only for herself. To bring out a story, that remains evergreen, whose characters never get old, like those of Ruskin Bond or make you believe in magic like J. K. Rowling. Several attempts were made by her, to begin a book; but the conclusion was, that this was not the story her heart wanted to jolt down.

Now it was time to scribble. Just scribble random thoughts. And some peers were needed to read and enjoy her scribbles. That’s when she created her blog. It picked up really well with social media helping to get the audience for her blog. Her school teachers, college mates, school mates, family friends and relatives; everyone loves the simplistic way of her writing. Every time a blog was published, it made her more and more conscious about her audience and way of writing. She did not restrict her blogs to one particular genre, from food to travel to school life to fiction to daily inspirations.

Each blog post, is a trial run for something new and a result of small improvement from the previous piece. Now she is a part of Chennai’s biggest blogging community, which helps her to keep the blog active.

Cute appreciation from her friends and juniors, inspiring messages from teachers and uncles push her forward to bring out good quality of simple writing.

Her quest to write a book, is still on, for she will fulfil it soon!!

The ‘she’ is ‘me’ here (:

P.S. This is my entry to the Sweek contest with #ChennaiBloggersClub 

Book Review: The GODS of Time

Book: The Gods of Time

Author: Aarthy Sundaram

Genre: Puranic Fiction

Novel in a nutshell: 

Three levels of Existence. Twin brothers. One destiny.
The story revolves around the descendants of prominent Indian mythological figures, who continue the legacy of their ancestors, mastering various art forms of warfare in the lands where both devaputras and asuras coexist. A phenomenal shock in one of the Sangams, disrupts the peace of the entire kingdom as Brahmastra one of the nine celestial weapons is invoked. Who is Aryaman? How does he have such powers?

Aditya, one of the main characters in the story, is found in an injured state in Devaloka and is rescued by Anjana, the agniputri. Later he befriends Anjana’s soul brother Deepak and their circle of friends who help him understand the working of the three lokas and it inhabitants.

Among the freshly induced creativity in mythology, three of them were my personal favourites. #1 Ksheer, the sweet dish which makes everyone’s mouth water even while reading it in the novel. Suryodh, one of Anjana’s friends easily gulps in 10 bowls of Ksheer and even craves for more.  #2 Nilayas, the triangular shaped shelter for the residents of the three lokas. These are analogous to the portable camping tents. #3 Karaks , the army of shape changing creatures created by the asuraVivakh.

Coming back to the plot, Aditya the curious learner, quickly masters the art of archery with his bow Vijaya (that had belonged to Karna from the epic of Mahabharat) and recieves training in one of the elite gurukuls- the Kasyapa Gurukul. Why is Aditya a subject of discussion among the Gods? What makes him so special? Is he the only Suryaputra left after all?

Only one person knows why Aditya’s life is endangered. Will he be able to protect him OR save himself from the clutches of vile Mahodara?

Why you should read the book:

  • A well spun mythological tale for fiction lovers
  • Clear narration and appropriate description
  • Elements of imagination go perfectly in sync with the human elements mentioned
  • Even if you don’t have any prior knowledge of mythology, the story is very much understandable
  • After self-publishing a book at the age of twelve, this debut novel is giant leap for this young author
  • You can expect a SEQUEL!!!

What could have been better:

  • The sense of time
  • A map showing all the places mentioned in the novel
  • The description was good overall, but some more details would have done a better job

USP of the Book: The ending!!!

Specialty of the book cover:

The book cover as you see, is an apt description to the story contained within it. It is handcrafted by a women Self-Help Group who use golden print and cotton thread embroidery (similar to those on cotton sarees) on the book cover, giving it a traditional midas touch.

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The intricate work done manually

 

You can read an excerpt of the book from here

You can get the books from: Amazon

Find out some more details about Aarthy’s book at the Writer’s Workshop and find this also on Goodreads from here.

P.S.  Aarthy Sundaram is an #Engineer #Potterhead and is currently doing the Young India Fellowship at Ashoka University.

 

 

D fOOdie ReTurnS!!!

So the last foodie blog was on gulf food. Now we are moving to a different geographical location on the whole. From middle east of Asia to the streets of Old Delhi.

Yayyy!!!You got it right!! It’s Chandni Chowk this time. Being one of the world’s oldest and busiest markets, this place is always flooded with crazy people and yummalicious food. Your mouth simply doesn’t water. There is a water falls flowing through your mouth literally 😉

A random trip which, which led us to the world of desi junk food, lies in the a road that runs down straight from the Red Fort in Delhi-6. The only lines that rule your brains is A.R.Rahman’s ‘Yeh Dilli hai mere yaar… bas ishq mohabbat pyaar…’ (This is Delhi my friend… There is just love here..) from the movie Delhi-6.

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A view of the Chandni Chowk

Coming back to the food. We started our munching process from Old Jalebi waala, a small quaint shop in one of the streets.It was definitely overcrowded for it scarce space, and I first felt that the jalebi waala had over priced the jalebis. But all that vanished off my mind when I tasted it. The following questions left me bewildered: I had no idea what magical ingredients were used; what was different in that jalebi form what I have had before; It was even less orange in colour, but that was no way linked to its taste; I could pay even more to eat that again 😛 Well I could manage to take just one pic of it, fearing someone would takeaway (or steal) my share as well.

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Concentrate on the pic; not the caption 😛 

After spending some time in Lal Quila and Jama Masjid, we came for a second round of jalebis with rabri. Rabri on jalebi was like cherry on the cake.(For those who don’t know what rabri is: it is an amalgam made up of khoya)

The next on the list is la lassi. The well centrifugated- creamy sweetened milk, as shown in the below pic, literally mesmerized us. I assume the pic speaks better than my words.

 

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Lassi like never before!

Our last stop for the day was at a chaat shop, whose name I forgot which was at one end of the main road. We were so busy eating and relishing every bite of our tikki and dahi bhalla, that by the time we thought of taking the pics, our plates were empty. The creamy curd, the sweet & sour tamarind chutney, black salt with deep fried mashed potato. I agree that this post is not descriptive, as the rest of the posts, trust me I was so busy concentrating on relishing it, that I couldn’t observe a lot. Just waiting for the next trip to get there and eat them all again!!

Yeh shahar nahi mehfill hai!! (This is not a city, but a festive gathering!!)

P.S. I am not over-exaggerating my experience. If you don’t believe me check it out yourself 😛

P.P.S. Merci Tripps, Jerry and The capital of Nagaland for this delicious trip 😉 😛