Tuesday 30 December 2014
Thursday 4 December 2014
Sachin Tendulkar’s experiments with truth
MATCH-FIXING
Exercises his right to remain silent
IPL SPOT-FIXING
Expresses his anguish and anger, seeks punishment for the guilty. Doesn’t delve into it any further.
MONKEYGATE
Sticks to the version known to public, no inside info
BALL TAMPERING AND MIKE DENNESS
Sticks to the version known to public, no inside info
MULTAN DECLARATION
Tendulkar spends considerable amount of ink to justify his displeasure at being left stranded on 194, thanks to the declaration in the Multan Test against Pakistan in 2004 by stand-in captain Rahul Dravid. It is one of the few times in the book where the master goes on the front foot. Tendulkar says he was batting to a plan that was agreed upon by the team management before he went in to bat. And that he was mystified by the declaration. Coach John Wright and injured captain Sourav Ganguly washed their hands of the declaration. Only commentator and former teammate Sanjay Manjrekar stood up to tell Tendulkar the decision was in the interest of the team. One is left wondering if Dravid did it out of any motive.
Tendulkar also cites a previous declaration, at Sydney in Australia, where Dravid apparently delayed declaration to get to his hundred, against skipper Ganguly’s wishes. The innings was called to an end when Dravid was on 91, but Tendulkar not-so-subtly hints the declaration, when it finally came, was because the batsman was hit on his helmet by a Brett Lee bouncer.
Yes, we take Sachin’s word and believe the two batsmen disagreed and lived happily thereafter. By the way, is Dravid penning his memoirs anytime soon?
THE BIG FIVE
The book is about Tendulkar’s exploits, and rightly so. But it could have had a chapter on the other big players with whom he shared the dressing room, especially in the later part of his career. We don’t see much on the captaincies of Ganguly, Dravid, Kumble and Dhoni, or the craft of Ganguly, Dravid, Laxman, Sehwag and Kumble. These could come in another book.
NUGGETS
For the cricket lover, Tendulkar gives some enjoyable tidbits on how he picked deliveries of rivals and which bowlers troubled him and why. The anecdotes also paint a happy picture of camaraderie within the team.
HUNGER FOR RUNS
Tendulkar makes no bones about his hunger for centuries, which in any case helps the team, he argues. He recounts how he delayed calling off play in a Test against Sri Lanka to reach his hundred. He also tells us how Sangakkara placed fielders to deny him strike to hit a hundred. In one of the Tests, he stops Dhoni and Gary Kirsten from declaring when Yuvraj Singh and Gautam Gambhir were in their 70s to reach their hundreds in a match heading to a draw. Both incidentally missed centuries.
DRS
Exercises his right to remain silent
POLITICS WITHIN BCCI
Exercises his right to remain silent
GREG CHAPPELL
Excerpts are already out. Tendulkar minces no words, and obviously no one disputes him on this.
WORLD CUP WIN
The chapter takes us through images that will remain with us forever. It took me back to a night of revelry on the streets of Delhi. The book from here on becomes a bit like his career after the world cup. One is tempted to breeze through the pages.
THE WRITING
The story-telling takes the form of match reports, going through Sachin Tendulkar’s career sequentially. Mostly, it is like batting on a dead wicket, without many thrills. The only points where Tendulkar gets us excited is when he talks about Greg Chappell and Multan Test declaration.
VERDICT
An Indian cricket lover can’t ‘not have’ the great Sachin Tendulkar’s autobiography. Buy it despite its many pitfalls.
Monday 24 November 2014
Tuesday 18 November 2014
Baba Narayanan Kutty's handbook on swamis, sex and sanyaas
I am just back from an undercover operation. A few months ago, when a godman was arrested in a sex assault case, I felt the urge to explore the world of spirituality. And since the police didn't seek my help in any manner, I had to satisfy my curiosity attending a camp by a local swami, not as exalted as the swami under investigation, but who is showing some real promise.
Any tapasya needs a certain amount of preparation. This one was no different. Before I went for the camp, I underwent a month-long orientation so that I would not be out of place, and more importantly so that I was worthy of my place in the congregation of swamis. I practised complete abstinence: no sex, no alcohol, no meat, no hate, no love, no desire.
But my one-month undercover stay busted many myths I had nurtured about sanyaas. Here are my findings.
1) The blame game
Case study
A bhakt, after getting tired of standing in the queue for hours and failing in getting an audience with the Swami, opted for the second best option available. He came to me. The bhakt was troubled because his business was not giving the returns he expected.
"Son, you are paying for your bad karma in your previous life," I said, "The man upstairs keeps an account of each and every activity of yours in all the lives you lived, and will be living. No escaping him."
"Does that mean my bad karma in this birth will affect my next life?"
"Certainly, son."
"I evaded tax worth some Rs 20 lakh," the bhakt counted his sins, "slept with my neighbour Sharma's wife, stole money from my business partner Varma."
"You may forget the tax bit, it anyway is a waste. But you will have to pay for your other karmas. Now you can only soften the blow by chanting god's name. Take refuge in Him, and He may forgive you. But I don't know if Sharmaji will forgive you, so stay away from him."
Conclusion
Always name someone or something as a reason for your bhakt's misfortune. You may blame karma, dharma, Sharma, Varma... it is up to you. You are safe as long as you don't blame the bhakt himself.
2) The Vedas
Case study
A bhakt came seeking happiness. He had all the riches but no happiness.
"The Vedas say every life has a purpose," I said, "You need to find yours." I was not sure if any of the Vedas said so, but I knew the bhakt was equally ignorant.
"How do I know what my life's purpose is?"
"Sometimes the realization comes in the form of inner voice, sometimes as a voice from the heaven. One never knows, there are no formulae when it comes to spirituality."
"Does it mean I stay unhappy till I know the purpose of my life?"
"Here swamis like us may be of some help. You say you have all the riches, but are not happy. May be you should share your wealth to be happy. I know you are a very busy man, and you cannot spend time on charity. Leave that to us."
He didn't look convinced.
"Have you heard of Karna? Daanaveera Karna. Once upon a time he too was a miser like you. One of the old puranas says Karna in his childhood had a liking for kheer or payasam. He would finish bowl after bowl of payasam without sharing it with anyone. The next day he would come down with an upset stomach. One night he heard a voice from the heaven, 'share your payasam, your troubles will be over.' After that he never turned away a person in need of help."
The client fell for it.
Conclusion
Cite Vedas when you are in trouble. Quote from puranas, we have so many of them like Skandapurana, Matsyapurana... Invent new puranas, make up stories if needed. Valmiki, Veda Vyasa are not coming to bust your little scam.
3) Quote shlokas
Case study
One particular devotee proved a hard nut. No amount of stories would make him see reason. Finally I looked at the skies, entered a deep thought and recited a shloka from the Gita.
"Bandhuraatmaatmanastasya yenaatmaivaatmanaa jitah,
Anaatmanastu shatrutve vartetaatmaiva shatruvath"
He had no choice, but to give in.
Conclusion
Learn a few shlokas by heart, they can be very handy
4) The wail of a woman in distress
Case study
Most of our swamis are Class 2 dropouts. Well I might be guilty of exaggeration there, but I am sure none of them have cleared Class 10. Some even became sanyasis even before they hit puberty. Many of them have grown up watching Shakti Kapur in action. So when a woman comes saying, "Swami, mein kuchch bhi karne ke liye taiyar hoon (I am ready to do anything)," it doesn't seem like a distress call but an invitation to sex and/or rape for our swamis.
At my swami's camp, a bhakta who came with exactly the same lines was taken inside for a purification ceremony.
Conclusion
Readers can draw their own conclusion
5) Pick your audience
Case study
A man in dhoti, with chandan smeared on forehead came to visit my swami. He had religious books in his bag, looked scholarly, spoke fluent Sanskrit. He had a tough time getting darshan of my swami, and when he finally got it, recited some shlokas, the origin and meaning of which are yet to be deciphered. After the flourish, the bhakt said, "I am troubled. Why this duplicity? Why is god doing this to me?"
My swami evidently had no clue about what had hit him, but kept his composure. "Son, you are doubting god, He whose actions are not to be explained to us mere mortals."
"Swami, god is my sakha, the book says. Is it how a friend treats you?"
"He is your sakha, but a divine sakha. He has his reasons for his leela. You will get your answers at an appropriate time. Now is not the time. Wait. Wait. Wait. A little patience has never hurt anyone. Knowledge comes through long, painful tapasya. It's not a crash course you attend at Brilliants or Aggarwals."
So said the swami, and out went the bhakt. My guru immediately hired two Sanskrit professors to find what the verse actually meant. He ticked off his staff for not vetting the audience.
"How did that clown get through the security?" He thundered. Two guards lost their jobs.
Conclusion
You have to pick your audience in this business. Scholars in Sanskrit look good on your payroll, not on your list of devotees.
6) The song and dance
Case study
Towards the end of the programme, a devotee came and sang bhajans in his sweet voice. I went into a trance. For an hour or so, I was seriously thinking of taking deeksha from the swami. Luckily power went off at some point, and I came back to my senses. I didn't stay there any longer.
Conclusion
It will do a world of good to a swami, if he hires some singers. The best and cheap options available would be failures in television talent hunt contests. No one remembers them, but many of them are real gems.
Observations about the industry
1) No labour problems
Most workers are volunteers. Get food for their services. Ninety-nine per cent don't draw any salary. In fact some 50 per cent donate their wealth to be volunteers.
2) Forex earners for the country
Established spiritual gurus earn valuable foreign exchange for the country. The government is working on a package of incentives to boost spirituality exports. Anything to save the rupee.
3) Highest profit margins
Spirituality business has the highest profit margins. In some cases the returns are as high as 80 per cent. The best of business houses in India don't have such returns. One of India's richest men is planning a spirituality venture.
AFTERWORD
I have now placed an ad in tomorrow's newspaper.
Narayanan Kutty Bhojananda Swamikal takes you on the path to god.
"Kya aap kuch bhi karne ke liye taiyyaar hain? (Are you ready to do anything?)"
Any tapasya needs a certain amount of preparation. This one was no different. Before I went for the camp, I underwent a month-long orientation so that I would not be out of place, and more importantly so that I was worthy of my place in the congregation of swamis. I practised complete abstinence: no sex, no alcohol, no meat, no hate, no love, no desire.
But my one-month undercover stay busted many myths I had nurtured about sanyaas. Here are my findings.
1) The blame game
Case study
A bhakt, after getting tired of standing in the queue for hours and failing in getting an audience with the Swami, opted for the second best option available. He came to me. The bhakt was troubled because his business was not giving the returns he expected.
"Son, you are paying for your bad karma in your previous life," I said, "The man upstairs keeps an account of each and every activity of yours in all the lives you lived, and will be living. No escaping him."
"Does that mean my bad karma in this birth will affect my next life?"
"Certainly, son."
"I evaded tax worth some Rs 20 lakh," the bhakt counted his sins, "slept with my neighbour Sharma's wife, stole money from my business partner Varma."
"You may forget the tax bit, it anyway is a waste. But you will have to pay for your other karmas. Now you can only soften the blow by chanting god's name. Take refuge in Him, and He may forgive you. But I don't know if Sharmaji will forgive you, so stay away from him."
Conclusion
Always name someone or something as a reason for your bhakt's misfortune. You may blame karma, dharma, Sharma, Varma... it is up to you. You are safe as long as you don't blame the bhakt himself.
2) The Vedas
Case study
A bhakt came seeking happiness. He had all the riches but no happiness.
"The Vedas say every life has a purpose," I said, "You need to find yours." I was not sure if any of the Vedas said so, but I knew the bhakt was equally ignorant.
"How do I know what my life's purpose is?"
"Sometimes the realization comes in the form of inner voice, sometimes as a voice from the heaven. One never knows, there are no formulae when it comes to spirituality."
"Does it mean I stay unhappy till I know the purpose of my life?"
"Here swamis like us may be of some help. You say you have all the riches, but are not happy. May be you should share your wealth to be happy. I know you are a very busy man, and you cannot spend time on charity. Leave that to us."
He didn't look convinced.
"Have you heard of Karna? Daanaveera Karna. Once upon a time he too was a miser like you. One of the old puranas says Karna in his childhood had a liking for kheer or payasam. He would finish bowl after bowl of payasam without sharing it with anyone. The next day he would come down with an upset stomach. One night he heard a voice from the heaven, 'share your payasam, your troubles will be over.' After that he never turned away a person in need of help."
The client fell for it.
Conclusion
Cite Vedas when you are in trouble. Quote from puranas, we have so many of them like Skandapurana, Matsyapurana... Invent new puranas, make up stories if needed. Valmiki, Veda Vyasa are not coming to bust your little scam.
3) Quote shlokas
Case study
One particular devotee proved a hard nut. No amount of stories would make him see reason. Finally I looked at the skies, entered a deep thought and recited a shloka from the Gita.
"Bandhuraatmaatmanastasya yenaatmaivaatmanaa jitah,
Anaatmanastu shatrutve vartetaatmaiva shatruvath"
He had no choice, but to give in.
Conclusion
Learn a few shlokas by heart, they can be very handy
4) The wail of a woman in distress
Case study
Most of our swamis are Class 2 dropouts. Well I might be guilty of exaggeration there, but I am sure none of them have cleared Class 10. Some even became sanyasis even before they hit puberty. Many of them have grown up watching Shakti Kapur in action. So when a woman comes saying, "Swami, mein kuchch bhi karne ke liye taiyar hoon (I am ready to do anything)," it doesn't seem like a distress call but an invitation to sex and/or rape for our swamis.
At my swami's camp, a bhakta who came with exactly the same lines was taken inside for a purification ceremony.
Conclusion
Readers can draw their own conclusion
5) Pick your audience
Case study
A man in dhoti, with chandan smeared on forehead came to visit my swami. He had religious books in his bag, looked scholarly, spoke fluent Sanskrit. He had a tough time getting darshan of my swami, and when he finally got it, recited some shlokas, the origin and meaning of which are yet to be deciphered. After the flourish, the bhakt said, "I am troubled. Why this duplicity? Why is god doing this to me?"
My swami evidently had no clue about what had hit him, but kept his composure. "Son, you are doubting god, He whose actions are not to be explained to us mere mortals."
"Swami, god is my sakha, the book says. Is it how a friend treats you?"
"He is your sakha, but a divine sakha. He has his reasons for his leela. You will get your answers at an appropriate time. Now is not the time. Wait. Wait. Wait. A little patience has never hurt anyone. Knowledge comes through long, painful tapasya. It's not a crash course you attend at Brilliants or Aggarwals."
So said the swami, and out went the bhakt. My guru immediately hired two Sanskrit professors to find what the verse actually meant. He ticked off his staff for not vetting the audience.
"How did that clown get through the security?" He thundered. Two guards lost their jobs.
Conclusion
You have to pick your audience in this business. Scholars in Sanskrit look good on your payroll, not on your list of devotees.
6) The song and dance
Case study
Towards the end of the programme, a devotee came and sang bhajans in his sweet voice. I went into a trance. For an hour or so, I was seriously thinking of taking deeksha from the swami. Luckily power went off at some point, and I came back to my senses. I didn't stay there any longer.
Conclusion
It will do a world of good to a swami, if he hires some singers. The best and cheap options available would be failures in television talent hunt contests. No one remembers them, but many of them are real gems.
Observations about the industry
1) No labour problems
Most workers are volunteers. Get food for their services. Ninety-nine per cent don't draw any salary. In fact some 50 per cent donate their wealth to be volunteers.
2) Forex earners for the country
Established spiritual gurus earn valuable foreign exchange for the country. The government is working on a package of incentives to boost spirituality exports. Anything to save the rupee.
3) Highest profit margins
Spirituality business has the highest profit margins. In some cases the returns are as high as 80 per cent. The best of business houses in India don't have such returns. One of India's richest men is planning a spirituality venture.
AFTERWORD
I have now placed an ad in tomorrow's newspaper.
Narayanan Kutty Bhojananda Swamikal takes you on the path to god.
"Kya aap kuch bhi karne ke liye taiyyaar hain? (Are you ready to do anything?)"
Friday 14 November 2014
Laddoo
(Children's Day Short Story taken from http://thadirajesh.blogspot.in)
The alarm clock rang at 5 o' clock in the morning. These days it is more punctual than the neighbour's cock, who had been the time keeper for Unni's village for years. Age seems to be catching up with Poovalan. Maybe he is enjoying his retirement days like grandpa. The good morning cock-ara-kkoo siren now is sounded well past 7.00 am.
The alarm clock rang at 5 o' clock in the morning. These days it is more punctual than the neighbour's cock, who had been the time keeper for Unni's village for years. Age seems to be catching up with Poovalan. Maybe he is enjoying his retirement days like grandpa. The good morning cock-ara-kkoo siren now is sounded well past 7.00 am.
Why did man invent clock? Couldn't he have left time alone? Unni ignored the alarm and turned over.
"Wake up."
Good things, like sleep, don't last long. In Unni's case, not beyond 5 am. Children should wake up early in the morning to study.
'Mind is fresh at that hour, free of everything. This is the time you will see algebra, physics and chemistry are human after all. Easily tamed.'
Unni's amma had told and retold the formula a million times. Unni was never convinced. Amma would say, "See you got 45 out of 50. If you didn't wake early, this would have been 30 out of 50." She would then go on to name children from the neighbourhood who scored poorly in exams only because they woke up late. Chandran, Kumaran, Satheesh, Raman...
Amma brought a vessel of cold water and placed Unni's feet in it. Another of her formulas to beat sleep. She then opened the mathematics textbook, chapter VI, and ticked a few questions for Unni to do.
Solve:
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
Unni looked at the first question. He had often wondered why his algebra problems always involved x, y and z; or p, q and r; or a, b, and c. Were they a family like achan, amma and Unni. X married Y and had a son Z.
He asked his maths teacher, Sathi madam, the same question a few days ago.
"Why do our equations always have x, y and z? Why can't they be d, e and f; or g, h and i?"
"Because I named the unknowns x, y, and z. If you want to name them g, h and i, you are free to do so."
"Why do we need to name them?"
"Names help us identify things easily. For example, why did your mother name you Unnikrishnan."
"My mother tells me she named me Unnikrishnan because I look like Krishna when he was a child."
Sathi teacher smiled and then said, "If she named you Keshavan, you would be called Keshavan. If she named you Sekhar, you would be Sekhar."
"Then can I give my algebra equations nice names like Pachu and Kovalan. Like Pachu + Kovalan = Abdul Qadar."
At this Sathi teacher laughed loudly, the entire class joined her, "Yes, you can."
Unni felt very proud of his joke.
He then applied his formula on the given equation
Solve:
-4Pachu + 4Kovalan = -48
3Pachu + 8Kovalan = -63...
"Wake up Unni. You haven't done a single problem, it's already 7. Now get up and get ready for school."
--------------
8 am
Unni goes to school
--------------
5 pm
World over, children walk to school and run home, said a famous advertisement catchline. But Unni doesn't run home, he runs to the grounds near the coconut farm to play cricket. By the time he reached the ground, the match had started. His friends had picked him in a team.
At home, Amma made dosa and kept waiting for him. Hot dosa and chutney and milk mixed with Complan. Enough energy to pick up the thread where he left it at 7 am in the morning.
Solve:
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
Amma still doesn't know of Unni's new system of nomenclature. But she knows evening is the next best time to study after early morning.
"He must have gone to play cricket with those good-for-nothings."
She took out a cane. It's not an ordinary cane. Much preparation has gone into making it the lethal weapon that it is.
"I have oiled it to perfection like your Sachin Tendulkar's bat," she often told her son.
Amma's cane is perfect for its intended use. It's elastic and bends to give maximum effect - leaves blood clots on the skin if effectively used. Unni's achan uses it more effectively than his mother. The cane is an extended arm for him like the bat is for Tendulkar.
Amma walked to the grounds stealthily and looked for her son. He was standing at the cover boundary, the last defence against Amit's deadly switch-hit, which he had made his own shot -- the village says Pietersen learnt it from Amit. But to Unni's amma, cricket made little sense, switch-hit made none at all.
The cane fell on Unni's thigh like a lightning. Just once. The boy didn't give his mother another chance to swing the cane. He ran, his mother chased, and the entire ground cheered them.
"Up, up Unni; down, down, aunty"
With 21 cricket players, 3 some cows, 5 goats and 4 dogs egging him on, Unni jumped on to a coconut tree, and climbed up till he reached the top - coconuts and leaves above his head, and the blue sky beyond. He looked down, and saw his mother sitting below. Then began the battle of nerves. The kind of thing he usually sees in Bollywood hostage dramas. Who'll blink first?
At some point, Unni's amma lowered her guard, and he, making full use of it, climbed half the way down, jumped the rest of the distance, and took off home. All the while he was cheered, "Up, up Unni; down, down aunty."
Amma ran behind him.
He had returned a hero, he felt like Sachin Tendulkar, though this happened every day. The chase, the climb, the jump were a habit for him just like scoring centuries was for Sachin.
All the heroics, however, were in vain. Unni did get a dose of the cane. The bad part was he didn't get the dosa and chutney. He was straightaway confronted with reality.
Solve:
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
As Unni sat there sobbing, fighting tears, wrestling with numbers, his ammumma (grandma) consoled him.
"You study well and grow up. You will become a bigger cricketer than Sachin Tendulkar. But if you cry and don't do the sums, how will you become a cricketer?"
Unni wiped his tears and said, "You are stupid ammumma, cricketers don't need to learn maths."
"Yes, I do not now anything. Why don't you do the sum and teach me?"
At a distance Unni saw his grandpa coming. Muthachan was returning from the tea shop. His routine - a cup of tea and masala vada. And there is something else to his routine. Unni's eyes lit up with expectation.
"Unni come here," said muthachan, "Take these laddoos and don't forget to share it with your friends."
Off went Unni, again to the ground, in time for his batting.
"You are responsible for spoiling him," shouted amma from inside the kitchen.
Thursday 13 November 2014
ഉണ്ണിയപ്പം
( Children's Day Special Short Story. Taken from http://thadirajesh.blogspot.in )
കട്ടിലിന് അരികെയുള്ള ക്ലോക്ക് കൂട്ടമണി മുഴക്കി. സമയം രാവിലെ അഞ്ച്. ക്ലോക്ക് അച്ഛൻ രണ്ട് മാസം മുൻപ് വാങ്ങിയതാണ്. അത് വരെ ഉണ്ണിയെ ഉണര്ത്തിയിരുന്നത് അയലത്തെ പൂവനാണ്. ഈയിടെ പൂവനു ഭയങ്കര മടി. പുള്ളി എഴുനേറ്റു കണ്ണ് കഴുകി കൂകുംബോഴേക്കും ഏഴു കഴിയും. പ്രായമായില്ലേ. മുത്തച്ചനെ പോലെ സർവീസിൽ നിന്നും വിരമിച്ചുകാണും. അവനു പെൻഷൻ വല്ലതും കിട്ടുന്നുണ്ടോ ആവോ.
മനുഷ്യൻ എന്തിനാണോ ക്ലോക്ക് കണ്ടുപിടിച്ചത്. അവനു സമയത്തെ എങ്കിലും വെറുതെ വിട്ടുകൂടായിരുന്നോ? ഉണ്ണി ആവലാതിപ്പെട്ട് കൊണ്ട് തിരിഞ്ഞു കിടന്നു.
"ഉണ്ണി, എഴുന്നേല്ക്കു കുട്ടാ."
നല്ല കാര്യങ്ങൾ അധിക സമയം നീളാറില്ല. ഉണ്ണിയുടെ ഉറക്കം 5 മണിക്കപ്പുറം പോകില്ല. പോകാൻ അമ്മ സമ്മതിക്കില്ല.
"കുട്ടികൾ അതിരാവിലെ എഴുന്നേറ്റു പഠിക്കണം. മനസ്സ് ആ സമയം യാതൊരു അല്ലലുമില്ലാതെ എന്തും ചെയ്യാൻ പാകത്തിന് ഇരിക്കും. കണക്കും, ഫിസിക്സൂം, കെമിസ്ട്രിയും എല്ലാം നമ്മുടെ വരുതിയിൽ വരും."
അമ്മ ഒരായിരം വട്ടം ഇത് പറഞ്ഞിട്ടുണ്ട്. പക്ഷെ ഉണ്ണിക്കു വിശ്വാസം ഇല്ല. അപ്പോൾ അമ്മ പറയും, "ദേ നോക്ക്. നിനക്ക് കണക്കിന് 50-ഇൽ 45 കിട്ടിയില്ലേ. എന്താ കാര്യം. നീ രാവിലെ എഴുന്നെറ്റു പഠിക്കും. അപ്പുറത്തെ ശങ്കരനും, മാധവനും, കേശവനും ഒക്കെ തോല്ക്കുന്നു. അവർ ആ സമയം കൂര്ക്കം വലിച്ചുറങ്ങും."
"എങ്കിൽ അമ്മക്ക് ഈ വിദ്യ അവരുടെ അമ്മമാരുടെ അടുത്ത് പറഞ്ഞു കൂടെ?" ഉണ്ണിയുടെ കുനിഷ്ട് ചോദ്യം.
"നീ തര്ക്കുതതരം പറയാതെ ഇരുന്നു കണക്കു ചെയ്യു." ഇത്രയും പറഞ്ഞു അമ്മ അവന്റെ കാലുകൾ ഒരു പാത്രം വെള്ളത്തിൽ മുക്കി വെയ്ച്ചു.
Solve
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
ഉണ്ണി പലപ്പോഴും ഇതാലോചിച്ചിട്ടുണ്ട്. കണക്കിലെന്താ എപ്പോഴും x, y, z; അഥവാ p, q, r; അഥവാ a, b, c. x-ഉം y-ഉം കല്യാണം കഴിചിട്ടുണ്ടായ കുട്ടിയാണോ z?
കഴിഞ്ഞ ആഴ്ച അവനതു ചോദിച്ചു, സതി ടീചറോട്.
"സമവാക്യങ്ങൾ എപ്പോഴും x, y, z എന്താണ്? എന്തു കൊണ്ട് d, e, f ആയിക്കൂടാ?"
"ആകാല്ലോ. ഉണ്ണി അവരെ d, e, f എന്ന് പേരിട്ടോ."
"എന്തിനാ നമ്മൾ അവര്ക്ക് പേരിടണെ?"
"തിരിച്ചറിയാൻ. അമ്മ ഉണ്ണിയുടെ പേര് ഉണ്ണി എന്ന് ഇട്ട പോലെ. അമ്മ നിന്നെ ശേഖർ എന്ന് വിളിചെങ്കിൽ നീ ശേഖർ ആയേനെ."
"എനിക്ക് ഈ x, y, z ഒട്ടും ഇഷ്ടപെട്ടില്ല, ഞാൻ അവര്ക്ക് പാച്ചു എന്നും കോവാലൻ എന്നും പേരിട്ടാലോ. Pachu + Kovalan = Abdul Qadar. എങ്ങനെ ഉണ്ട്?"
"കലക്കി." സതി ടീച്ചര് പൊട്ടിച്ചിരിച്ചു, കൂടെ മൊത്തം ക്ലാസും.
ഉണ്ണി തന്റെ ഫോര്മുല അങ്ങ് പ്രയോഗിച്ചു.
Solve
-4Pachu + 4Kovalan = -48
3Pachu + 8Kovalan = -63
അവൻ നിയമങ്ങള ഒക്കെ കാറ്റിൽ പറത്തി കണക്കുമായി ഗുസ്തി പിടിച്ചു. വാശിയേറിയ പോരാട്ടം. കണക്കിനും ഉണ്ടല്ലോ അഭിമാനം, വളരെ നേരം പയറ്റി. ഒടുവിൽ അവൻ അടിയറവു പറഞ്ഞു ഗോദയിൽ നിന്നും പുറത്തിറങ്ങി. ഉണ്ണി പതുക്കെ മയക്കത്തിലേക്കും.
"എടാ എണീക്കടാ. കണക്കു ചെയ്യാതെ ഇത് വരെ എന്ത് ചെയ്തു? സമയം ഏഴായി. എഴുനേറ്റു സ്കൂളിൽ പോകാൻ നോക്ക്."
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8 മണി
ഉണ്ണി സ്കൂളിലേക്ക് പോയി
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5 മണി
ലോകമാകമാനം കുട്ടികൾ സ്കൂളിലേക്ക് നടക്കുന്നു, തിരിച്ചു വീട്ടിലേക്കു ഓടുന്നു. പറഞ്ഞതു ഒരു പരസ്യവാചകം. പക്ഷെ ഉണ്ണി തിരിച്ചു മൈതാനത്തെക്കാണ് ഓടുന്നത്. ഇന്ന് അവൻ എത്തിയപ്പോൾ വൈകി. കളി തുടങ്ങി കഴിഞ്ഞിരുന്നു. അവനെ ടീമിൽ എടുത്തിട്ടുണ്ട്. ഫീല്ടിംഗ് ആണ്.
വീട്ടിൽ അമ്മ ചൂട് ദോശയും, ചമ്മന്തിയും, കോമ്പ്ലാനും ആയി കാത്തിരുന്നു. ഏഴു മണിക്ക് വിട്ടിടത് വീണ്ടും തുടങ്ങാൻ അവനെ കാത്തു ഒരു സമവാക്യവും ഉണ്ട്.
"ഇന്നും അവൻ വൈകിയല്ലോ, അവിടെ ക്രിക്കെറ്റ് കളിക്കാൻ പോയി കാണും, ഞാൻ ഒന്ന് നോക്കട്ടെ."
ഒരു ചൂരൽ എടുത്തു. അതിന്റെ ചൂടറിയാത്ത ഒരു കുട്ടി പോലും ആ നാട്ടിലില്ല.
"ഇത് ഞാൻ എണ്ണ ഒഴിച്ച് തയ്യാറാക്കിയ പ്രത്യേക ചൂരൽ ആണ്, നിന്റെ സച്ചിന്റെ ബാറ്റ് പോലെ," അമ്മ പലപ്പോഴും ഉണ്ണിയോട് പറഞ്ഞിട്ടുണ്ട്.
പറഞ്ഞത് ശരിയാണ്. ഉപയോഗിക്കാൻ അറിയാമെങ്കിൽ ഇതിലും മാരകമായ വേറെ ആയുധം വേറെ ഇല്ല. ചോര പൊടിക്കും ആഞ്ഞു ഒന്ന് തല്ലിയാൽ. ചൂരൽ പ്രയോഗത്തിൽ അച്ഛൻ ആണ് അമ്മയേക്കാൾ വേന്ദ്രൻ.
അമ്മ മൈതാനത്തേക്ക് പോയി. അവിടെ മകൻ ഫീല്ടിംഗ് ചെയ്യുന്നു. കവർ ബൌണ്ടറിയിൽ. അമിതിന്റെ ഇടൻ കയ്യൻ ഷോട്ട് തടുക്കാൻ അവസാനത്തെ പ്രതിരോധം. പീറെര്സേൻ സ്വിച്ച് ഹിറ്റ് പഠിച്ചത് അമിതിന്റെ അടുത്ത് നിന്നാണ്. ഭാരിച്ച ചുമതലയാണ് ഉണ്ണിയുടെത്.
ഇത് വല്ലതും അമ്മയുണ്ടോ അറിയുന്നു. കൊടുത്തു ഒരു കീറു അവന്റെ തുടയ്ക്കു. പുളഞ്ഞു പോയി ഉണ്ണി. അടുത്ത ചൂരൽ കഷായം വരും മുമ്പേ അവൻ ഓടി.
ഉണ്ണി മുൻപിൽ, അമ്മ പുറകെ. ഒരു ഒളിമ്പിക്സ് പ്രതീതി. കാണികളുടെ പിന്തുണ ഉണ്ണിയ്ക്ക്. 21 ക്രിക്കെറ്റ് കളിക്കാരും, 3 പശുക്കളും, 6 ആടുകളും, 4-5 പട്ടികളും ആർപ്പു വിളിച്ചു.
"അപ്പ്, അപ്പ് ഉണ്ണി; ഡൌണ്, ഡൌണ് ഉണ്ണീടമ്മ"
നാടും കാടും ആകെ ഹരം പിടിച്ചിരിക്കുമ്പോൾ ഉണ്ണിയുടെ വക ഒരു ഹൈ ജമ്പ്, നേരെ തെങ്ങിന്റെ മേലെ. അവൻ കയറി, മതിയാവോളം. ഒടുക്കം തെങ്ങിന്റെ മുകളിൽ എത്തി. ഇനിയങ്ങോട്ട് വഴിയില്ല. താഴെ അമ്മ കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നു ചൂരലുമായി. കുറെ നേരം അങ്ങനെ പോയി. പിന്നെ എപ്പോഴോ, അമ്മയുടെ നോട്ടം തെറ്റിയപ്പോൾ ഉണ്ണി ചാടിയിറങ്ങി ഓടി വീടിലേക്ക്. പിറകിൽ കാണികളുടെ ആര്പ്പു വിളി.
"അപ്പ്, അപ്പ് ഉണ്ണി; ഡൌണ്, ഡൌണ് ഉണ്ണീടമ്മ"
ആ നിമിഷം അവനു തോന്നി അവൻ സച്ചിനാണെന്നു. ഒരു സെഞ്ച്വറി അടിച്ച നിർവൃതി. അധിക നേരം നിന്നില്ല സന്തോഷം. കിട്ടി കണക്കിലേറെ ചൂരൽ. കിട്ടാഞ്ഞതു ദോശയും, ചമ്മന്തിയും, കോമ്പ്ലാനും.
വീണ്ടും ഉണ്ണിയും, കണക്കും നേർക്കുനേർ. അവൻ കരഞ്ഞു കൊണ്ട് പയറ്റു തുടങ്ങി.
Solve
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
"മോനെ, നീ നന്നായി പഠിച്ചാൽ സച്ചിനെക്കാൾ വലിയ കളിക്കാരനാകും. കുട്ടൻ ആ കണക്കൊന്നു ചെയ്തേ," അമ്മൂമ്മയുടെ സാന്ത്വനം.
"അമ്മൂമ്മക്കെന്തറീയാം! ക്രിക്കെറ്റ് കളിക്കാർക്ക് കണക്കു പഠിക്കണ്ട."
"ശരി അമ്മൂമയ്ക്ക് ഒന്നും അറിയില്ല. നീ ആ കണക്കൊന്നു പഠിപ്പിച്ചു താ."
ദൂരെ മുത്തഛൻ നടന്നു വരുന്നത് കാണാം. എന്നും വൈകിട്ട് ഒരു സർകീട്ട് ഉണ്ട് ചായ കടയിലേക്ക്. ഒരു ഗ്ലാസ് ചായയും ഉഴുന്ന് വടയും. അതാണ് പതിവ്. പിന്നെ തിരിച്ച് വരുമ്പോൾ വേറെ ഒരു പതിവ്.
"എടാ ഉണ്ണി, നീ ഇങ്ങോട്ട് ഒന്ന് വന്നേ. ഇതെന്താ കൊണ്ട് വന്നത് എന്ന് നോക്കിയേ."
ഒരു പൊതി ഉണ്ണിയപ്പം.
"നീ ഇത് കഴിക്ക്, നിന്റെ ചങ്ങാതിമാര്ക്കും കൊടുക്ക്."
ഉണ്ണി ഓടി പൊതിയുമായി, അവന്റെ ബാറ്റിങ്ങിന് സമയമായിട്ടുണ്ടായിരുന്നു.
"നിങ്ങളാ അവനെ വഷളാക്കുന്നെ," അടുക്കളയില നിന്നും അമ്മ അലറി.
കട്ടിലിന് അരികെയുള്ള ക്ലോക്ക് കൂട്ടമണി മുഴക്കി. സമയം രാവിലെ അഞ്ച്. ക്ലോക്ക് അച്ഛൻ രണ്ട് മാസം മുൻപ് വാങ്ങിയതാണ്. അത് വരെ ഉണ്ണിയെ ഉണര്ത്തിയിരുന്നത് അയലത്തെ പൂവനാണ്. ഈയിടെ പൂവനു ഭയങ്കര മടി. പുള്ളി എഴുനേറ്റു കണ്ണ് കഴുകി കൂകുംബോഴേക്കും ഏഴു കഴിയും. പ്രായമായില്ലേ. മുത്തച്ചനെ പോലെ സർവീസിൽ നിന്നും വിരമിച്ചുകാണും. അവനു പെൻഷൻ വല്ലതും കിട്ടുന്നുണ്ടോ ആവോ.
മനുഷ്യൻ എന്തിനാണോ ക്ലോക്ക് കണ്ടുപിടിച്ചത്. അവനു സമയത്തെ എങ്കിലും വെറുതെ വിട്ടുകൂടായിരുന്നോ? ഉണ്ണി ആവലാതിപ്പെട്ട് കൊണ്ട് തിരിഞ്ഞു കിടന്നു.
"ഉണ്ണി, എഴുന്നേല്ക്കു കുട്ടാ."
നല്ല കാര്യങ്ങൾ അധിക സമയം നീളാറില്ല. ഉണ്ണിയുടെ ഉറക്കം 5 മണിക്കപ്പുറം പോകില്ല. പോകാൻ അമ്മ സമ്മതിക്കില്ല.
"കുട്ടികൾ അതിരാവിലെ എഴുന്നേറ്റു പഠിക്കണം. മനസ്സ് ആ സമയം യാതൊരു അല്ലലുമില്ലാതെ എന്തും ചെയ്യാൻ പാകത്തിന് ഇരിക്കും. കണക്കും, ഫിസിക്സൂം, കെമിസ്ട്രിയും എല്ലാം നമ്മുടെ വരുതിയിൽ വരും."
അമ്മ ഒരായിരം വട്ടം ഇത് പറഞ്ഞിട്ടുണ്ട്. പക്ഷെ ഉണ്ണിക്കു വിശ്വാസം ഇല്ല. അപ്പോൾ അമ്മ പറയും, "ദേ നോക്ക്. നിനക്ക് കണക്കിന് 50-ഇൽ 45 കിട്ടിയില്ലേ. എന്താ കാര്യം. നീ രാവിലെ എഴുന്നെറ്റു പഠിക്കും. അപ്പുറത്തെ ശങ്കരനും, മാധവനും, കേശവനും ഒക്കെ തോല്ക്കുന്നു. അവർ ആ സമയം കൂര്ക്കം വലിച്ചുറങ്ങും."
"എങ്കിൽ അമ്മക്ക് ഈ വിദ്യ അവരുടെ അമ്മമാരുടെ അടുത്ത് പറഞ്ഞു കൂടെ?" ഉണ്ണിയുടെ കുനിഷ്ട് ചോദ്യം.
"നീ തര്ക്കുതതരം പറയാതെ ഇരുന്നു കണക്കു ചെയ്യു." ഇത്രയും പറഞ്ഞു അമ്മ അവന്റെ കാലുകൾ ഒരു പാത്രം വെള്ളത്തിൽ മുക്കി വെയ്ച്ചു.
Solve
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
ഉണ്ണി പലപ്പോഴും ഇതാലോചിച്ചിട്ടുണ്ട്. കണക്കിലെന്താ എപ്പോഴും x, y, z; അഥവാ p, q, r; അഥവാ a, b, c. x-ഉം y-ഉം കല്യാണം കഴിചിട്ടുണ്ടായ കുട്ടിയാണോ z?
കഴിഞ്ഞ ആഴ്ച അവനതു ചോദിച്ചു, സതി ടീചറോട്.
"സമവാക്യങ്ങൾ എപ്പോഴും x, y, z എന്താണ്? എന്തു കൊണ്ട് d, e, f ആയിക്കൂടാ?"
"ആകാല്ലോ. ഉണ്ണി അവരെ d, e, f എന്ന് പേരിട്ടോ."
"എന്തിനാ നമ്മൾ അവര്ക്ക് പേരിടണെ?"
"തിരിച്ചറിയാൻ. അമ്മ ഉണ്ണിയുടെ പേര് ഉണ്ണി എന്ന് ഇട്ട പോലെ. അമ്മ നിന്നെ ശേഖർ എന്ന് വിളിചെങ്കിൽ നീ ശേഖർ ആയേനെ."
"എനിക്ക് ഈ x, y, z ഒട്ടും ഇഷ്ടപെട്ടില്ല, ഞാൻ അവര്ക്ക് പാച്ചു എന്നും കോവാലൻ എന്നും പേരിട്ടാലോ. Pachu + Kovalan = Abdul Qadar. എങ്ങനെ ഉണ്ട്?"
"കലക്കി." സതി ടീച്ചര് പൊട്ടിച്ചിരിച്ചു, കൂടെ മൊത്തം ക്ലാസും.
ഉണ്ണി തന്റെ ഫോര്മുല അങ്ങ് പ്രയോഗിച്ചു.
Solve
-4Pachu + 4Kovalan = -48
3Pachu + 8Kovalan = -63
അവൻ നിയമങ്ങള ഒക്കെ കാറ്റിൽ പറത്തി കണക്കുമായി ഗുസ്തി പിടിച്ചു. വാശിയേറിയ പോരാട്ടം. കണക്കിനും ഉണ്ടല്ലോ അഭിമാനം, വളരെ നേരം പയറ്റി. ഒടുവിൽ അവൻ അടിയറവു പറഞ്ഞു ഗോദയിൽ നിന്നും പുറത്തിറങ്ങി. ഉണ്ണി പതുക്കെ മയക്കത്തിലേക്കും.
"എടാ എണീക്കടാ. കണക്കു ചെയ്യാതെ ഇത് വരെ എന്ത് ചെയ്തു? സമയം ഏഴായി. എഴുനേറ്റു സ്കൂളിൽ പോകാൻ നോക്ക്."
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8 മണി
ഉണ്ണി സ്കൂളിലേക്ക് പോയി
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5 മണി
ലോകമാകമാനം കുട്ടികൾ സ്കൂളിലേക്ക് നടക്കുന്നു, തിരിച്ചു വീട്ടിലേക്കു ഓടുന്നു. പറഞ്ഞതു ഒരു പരസ്യവാചകം. പക്ഷെ ഉണ്ണി തിരിച്ചു മൈതാനത്തെക്കാണ് ഓടുന്നത്. ഇന്ന് അവൻ എത്തിയപ്പോൾ വൈകി. കളി തുടങ്ങി കഴിഞ്ഞിരുന്നു. അവനെ ടീമിൽ എടുത്തിട്ടുണ്ട്. ഫീല്ടിംഗ് ആണ്.
വീട്ടിൽ അമ്മ ചൂട് ദോശയും, ചമ്മന്തിയും, കോമ്പ്ലാനും ആയി കാത്തിരുന്നു. ഏഴു മണിക്ക് വിട്ടിടത് വീണ്ടും തുടങ്ങാൻ അവനെ കാത്തു ഒരു സമവാക്യവും ഉണ്ട്.
"ഇന്നും അവൻ വൈകിയല്ലോ, അവിടെ ക്രിക്കെറ്റ് കളിക്കാൻ പോയി കാണും, ഞാൻ ഒന്ന് നോക്കട്ടെ."
ഒരു ചൂരൽ എടുത്തു. അതിന്റെ ചൂടറിയാത്ത ഒരു കുട്ടി പോലും ആ നാട്ടിലില്ല.
"ഇത് ഞാൻ എണ്ണ ഒഴിച്ച് തയ്യാറാക്കിയ പ്രത്യേക ചൂരൽ ആണ്, നിന്റെ സച്ചിന്റെ ബാറ്റ് പോലെ," അമ്മ പലപ്പോഴും ഉണ്ണിയോട് പറഞ്ഞിട്ടുണ്ട്.
പറഞ്ഞത് ശരിയാണ്. ഉപയോഗിക്കാൻ അറിയാമെങ്കിൽ ഇതിലും മാരകമായ വേറെ ആയുധം വേറെ ഇല്ല. ചോര പൊടിക്കും ആഞ്ഞു ഒന്ന് തല്ലിയാൽ. ചൂരൽ പ്രയോഗത്തിൽ അച്ഛൻ ആണ് അമ്മയേക്കാൾ വേന്ദ്രൻ.
അമ്മ മൈതാനത്തേക്ക് പോയി. അവിടെ മകൻ ഫീല്ടിംഗ് ചെയ്യുന്നു. കവർ ബൌണ്ടറിയിൽ. അമിതിന്റെ ഇടൻ കയ്യൻ ഷോട്ട് തടുക്കാൻ അവസാനത്തെ പ്രതിരോധം. പീറെര്സേൻ സ്വിച്ച് ഹിറ്റ് പഠിച്ചത് അമിതിന്റെ അടുത്ത് നിന്നാണ്. ഭാരിച്ച ചുമതലയാണ് ഉണ്ണിയുടെത്.
ഇത് വല്ലതും അമ്മയുണ്ടോ അറിയുന്നു. കൊടുത്തു ഒരു കീറു അവന്റെ തുടയ്ക്കു. പുളഞ്ഞു പോയി ഉണ്ണി. അടുത്ത ചൂരൽ കഷായം വരും മുമ്പേ അവൻ ഓടി.
ഉണ്ണി മുൻപിൽ, അമ്മ പുറകെ. ഒരു ഒളിമ്പിക്സ് പ്രതീതി. കാണികളുടെ പിന്തുണ ഉണ്ണിയ്ക്ക്. 21 ക്രിക്കെറ്റ് കളിക്കാരും, 3 പശുക്കളും, 6 ആടുകളും, 4-5 പട്ടികളും ആർപ്പു വിളിച്ചു.
"അപ്പ്, അപ്പ് ഉണ്ണി; ഡൌണ്, ഡൌണ് ഉണ്ണീടമ്മ"
നാടും കാടും ആകെ ഹരം പിടിച്ചിരിക്കുമ്പോൾ ഉണ്ണിയുടെ വക ഒരു ഹൈ ജമ്പ്, നേരെ തെങ്ങിന്റെ മേലെ. അവൻ കയറി, മതിയാവോളം. ഒടുക്കം തെങ്ങിന്റെ മുകളിൽ എത്തി. ഇനിയങ്ങോട്ട് വഴിയില്ല. താഴെ അമ്മ കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നു ചൂരലുമായി. കുറെ നേരം അങ്ങനെ പോയി. പിന്നെ എപ്പോഴോ, അമ്മയുടെ നോട്ടം തെറ്റിയപ്പോൾ ഉണ്ണി ചാടിയിറങ്ങി ഓടി വീടിലേക്ക്. പിറകിൽ കാണികളുടെ ആര്പ്പു വിളി.
"അപ്പ്, അപ്പ് ഉണ്ണി; ഡൌണ്, ഡൌണ് ഉണ്ണീടമ്മ"
ആ നിമിഷം അവനു തോന്നി അവൻ സച്ചിനാണെന്നു. ഒരു സെഞ്ച്വറി അടിച്ച നിർവൃതി. അധിക നേരം നിന്നില്ല സന്തോഷം. കിട്ടി കണക്കിലേറെ ചൂരൽ. കിട്ടാഞ്ഞതു ദോശയും, ചമ്മന്തിയും, കോമ്പ്ലാനും.
വീണ്ടും ഉണ്ണിയും, കണക്കും നേർക്കുനേർ. അവൻ കരഞ്ഞു കൊണ്ട് പയറ്റു തുടങ്ങി.
Solve
-4x + 4y = -48
3x + 8y = -63
"മോനെ, നീ നന്നായി പഠിച്ചാൽ സച്ചിനെക്കാൾ വലിയ കളിക്കാരനാകും. കുട്ടൻ ആ കണക്കൊന്നു ചെയ്തേ," അമ്മൂമ്മയുടെ സാന്ത്വനം.
"അമ്മൂമ്മക്കെന്തറീയാം! ക്രിക്കെറ്റ് കളിക്കാർക്ക് കണക്കു പഠിക്കണ്ട."
"ശരി അമ്മൂമയ്ക്ക് ഒന്നും അറിയില്ല. നീ ആ കണക്കൊന്നു പഠിപ്പിച്ചു താ."
ദൂരെ മുത്തഛൻ നടന്നു വരുന്നത് കാണാം. എന്നും വൈകിട്ട് ഒരു സർകീട്ട് ഉണ്ട് ചായ കടയിലേക്ക്. ഒരു ഗ്ലാസ് ചായയും ഉഴുന്ന് വടയും. അതാണ് പതിവ്. പിന്നെ തിരിച്ച് വരുമ്പോൾ വേറെ ഒരു പതിവ്.
"എടാ ഉണ്ണി, നീ ഇങ്ങോട്ട് ഒന്ന് വന്നേ. ഇതെന്താ കൊണ്ട് വന്നത് എന്ന് നോക്കിയേ."
ഒരു പൊതി ഉണ്ണിയപ്പം.
"നീ ഇത് കഴിക്ക്, നിന്റെ ചങ്ങാതിമാര്ക്കും കൊടുക്ക്."
ഉണ്ണി ഓടി പൊതിയുമായി, അവന്റെ ബാറ്റിങ്ങിന് സമയമായിട്ടുണ്ടായിരുന്നു.
"നിങ്ങളാ അവനെ വഷളാക്കുന്നെ," അടുക്കളയില നിന്നും അമ്മ അലറി.
Thursday 6 November 2014
Monday 3 November 2014
Jasoos Narayanan Kutty’s kiss for a cause
Scientists say it is a state caused by the release of oxytocin, a hormone that has a calming effect on the body. It soothes the mind. In an elevated state of passion, oxytocin is accompanied by the dopamine and norepinephrine, two other hormones.
I don’t know which of these hormones worked, but day before yesterday I felt a tremendous urge to kiss Sara. And as it would happen the temptation was mutual. That is when I saw the news TV flashing that organizers of a kiss parade in Kochi were seeking the police’s permission. Then I heard someone had moved court to stop people from kissing.
As a law-abiding citizen I put in my own application for a permit to kiss. And I sent copies of the same to the Kerala Moral Police, who enforce a moral code of conduct much more efficiently than the Election Commission pushes its code. I also sent one copy to TV channels that keep hidden cameras to catch couples kissing. I just don’t want to offend anyone. No, I didn’t send any copy to Sara’s ex-boyfriend. A broken heart will never understand the virtue of self-sacrifice and non-violence. He will have to be in the dark about this.
It so happens the police have a single window clearance for applications for licence to kiss. As do the moral police. I got a response within 24 hours.
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REPLY FROM KERALA POLICE
Dear Mr Kutty,
We have received your application for Licence to Kiss. We are glad to inform that you may undertake the kiss (hereon referred to as the act) within the territorial limits of the state of Kerala, provided you satisfy the following terms and conditions fully.
TERMS
1) The act should not be committed within a distance of 75 metres from the following, namely:
a) Major educational institutions
b) Religious Places
c) Hospitals with fifty beds and above
d) Restaurants
e) Parks
Explanation I :- For the purpose of Clause (a) above, major educational institutions would mean middle and higher secondary schools, colleges and other institutions of higher learning recognised by the Government of Kerala or the Government of India.
Explanation II :- For the purpose of
Clause (b) above, a religious place would imply a religious place having a
pucca structure with a covered area of
more than 400 sq feet.
Explanation III :- The measurement of distance shall be from the mid-point of actual premises proposed for the act to mid-point of the actual main door/entrance of the building of the places mentioned in clauses (a), (b), (c), (d), (e) above.
2) The applicant must seek views of the public/residents, giving them 7 days’ time to file objections before the licensing authority. This has to be done through pasting of notices and also through public announcement in the area. A proper no objection certificate from the Resident Welfare Association or any other local sabha must be procured before the act is committed.
Any breach of the conditions will result in immediate cancellation of the licence.
Signature
Licencing Authority
Kerala Police
Our motto: Kiss Responsibly
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REPLY FROM KERALA MORAL POLICE
Dear Mr Kutty,
We have received your application for permission to kiss one Ms Sara. For convenience of the public, and safeguarding Indian Culture we have prescribed a few guidelines under a new Indian Moral Code that we have prepared in consultation with all stakeholders.
GUIDELINES
1) Every plan to kiss must be informed to the nearest branch of the moral police at least 24 hours before the actual act
2) If the nearest branch of the moral police is 30 kilometres or more from the venue of kiss, the notice period becomes 48 hours
3) If the moral police are not able to arrange enough TV cameras at the venue, the act may have to be postponed till the necessary arrangements are in place.
4) We are particularly interested in the dress to be worn during the act, the application should mention the same
5) The form should clearly mention the genders of the two applicants
6) Once the permission is granted, the act has to be undertaken. Forfeiture of permit to kiss will attract a fine of Rs 5,000
Signature
Kerala Moral Police
Our motto: (Still searching for one)
**************************************
There is one thing about oxytocin. It doesn’t wait for anyone.
Jasoos Kutty kissed Sara on November 2, without the permit. He kissed for a cause.
Friday 31 October 2014
Monday 20 October 2014
Wednesday 8 October 2014
Jasoos Kutty tames an Indian-American Modi fan
I am a troubled man ever since our Prime Minister announced the Clean India campaign. You know and I know nobody gives a hoot. It is like the global economy: 99 per cent vs 1 per cent. The problem is my super-efficient secretary Sara. She is one of the 1 per cent. Sara has taken PM Modi's initiative very seriously. The other person to do so is Shri Shashi Tharoor.
So today when I walk into my residence-cum-office, what do I see? A sofa in one end of the room, the television right opposite to it, a teapoy in between, the showcase with all the awards I have won in one corner, the telephone on the stand, the money plant, fresh flowers in the vase, no dust on the floor, no cockroaches, no lizards. Everything picture-perfect, too perfect to my liking. A detective finds chaos in order and order in chaos.
There is another reason why I am angry. I am in the middle of a murder case. No ordinary murder this. It actually followed a multimillion dollar scam. To crack this murder, I have to crack the scam first. To crack the scam, I have to crack the money trail first. To crack the money trail, I have to crack the paper trail first.
See, it is already very confusing. And when things get tough, the tough smoke hash. But to smoke it, you need to get the hash first. And I did not find it where I had placed it. Where did I find it? In a jar in the bar, right next to my whiskeys and vodkas, neatly labeled 'Manali - for recreational purposes'. But that was only half my stash. The rest I found in my crime lab, labeled 'Manali - for experimental purposes'. Right next to it, I found Idukki, Kashmir, LSD, C17H21NO4, Pan Parag, Navy Cut, all neatly packed and labeled. A little while later, I found a pack of condoms wrapped under my pillow. This one however didn't say what it was for. Very thoughtful of Sara.
We detectives have a habit of pinning notes on the board. Suspect X on the left top corner, his brother to the right top corner, the brother's driver in the middle, X's mistress below the driver. To the average eye, it would appear the woman is Suspect X's brother's driver's mistress because their photos are pinned together. But the learned eye gets the message. We are used to this language of cross connections.
Sara, in her eagerness to clean India, had cleaned up my evidence board too. She placed all the notes logically and alphabetically. Suspect X who was in some corner earlier was now right in the middle.
"Kutty, did you see I have cleaned up your house," said Sara, bringing in the newspapers.
"The PM asked you to clean the country, not Kutty's home," I said, throwing the newspapers on the floor. Each one flew to a different corner.
Sara, however was her sunder-susheel self, she collected newspapers and placed them on my teapoy.
"Why are you not angry?"
"No, why should I be? Do you know what Gandhiji said?"
"I think he said we should clean our toilets."
"He said that too. But mainly he preached non-violence."
"Oh, the someone-slaps-you-show-the-other-cheek stuff."
"Yes. You throw the newspapers, I will collect them."
"I will throw them again."
"Then I will collect them again."
"Sara, if you don't mend you ways, I will do what the Congress is doing to Tharoor," I changed tack.
"What did the Congress do?"
"They made Tharoor see reason. Now he makes only conditions-apply tweets."
"I am not getting you."
"For example he will now onwards say: 'Modi your clean-up drive is noble, but first you have to clean your own soul.'"
"Oh ok. You mean if he has to say something about the jalebi at Chandni Chowk, he will say, 'The Jalebiwallah's jalebis are delicious, but they have to be had after Kareem's mutton stew' "
"That would be too simplistic, but something similar. 'Modi got a hero's welcome from NRIs in the US, but Manmohanji got a nuclear deal from Obama'."
"Enough of your jokes, Kutty. Give us five years. We will make a Shanghai of Delhi."
"By Shanghai, you mean what? You will rename Delhi as Shanghai."
"Appearance you fool. Bullet train, expressways, super expressways, flyovers, bigger airports, clean streets, toilets in every house…"
"All I am interested in knowing is, will we get chicken Manchurian and gobi Manchurian in our ration shops."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Now, who the hell is that Sara?"
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Kutty I forgot to tell you. A gift from New York."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Who would gift me a tape recorder that plays the Modi RaGa on a loop?"
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"The Indian-American you helped. You know, the one who was wrongly arrested in a murder case and you helped him prove his innocence."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"But why would he give me a tape recorder?"
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"It is not a tape recorder fool, it is a parrot. And you can't switch it off."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Don't these Indian-Americans spare their parrots even? Thathamme, poocha, poocha."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"You can't fool parrots with your thathamme poocha, poocha. The cats don't scare them anymore."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Is it a challenge? What if I can switch it off?"
"Without strangling it! Yes, it is a challenge. If you win, no clean India drive in your office."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Kutty, you are going to lose… this parrot is well-trained."
I went to my lab, took out the Manali kept for experimental purposes, stuffed it in a red chilli and made our parrot of American origin smoke it for full five minutes.
After the hookah session, the parrot cleared its throat and started again.
"Kutty, Kutty, Kutty, Kutty… Kutty, Kutty, Kutty, Kutty."
So today when I walk into my residence-cum-office, what do I see? A sofa in one end of the room, the television right opposite to it, a teapoy in between, the showcase with all the awards I have won in one corner, the telephone on the stand, the money plant, fresh flowers in the vase, no dust on the floor, no cockroaches, no lizards. Everything picture-perfect, too perfect to my liking. A detective finds chaos in order and order in chaos.
There is another reason why I am angry. I am in the middle of a murder case. No ordinary murder this. It actually followed a multimillion dollar scam. To crack this murder, I have to crack the scam first. To crack the scam, I have to crack the money trail first. To crack the money trail, I have to crack the paper trail first.
See, it is already very confusing. And when things get tough, the tough smoke hash. But to smoke it, you need to get the hash first. And I did not find it where I had placed it. Where did I find it? In a jar in the bar, right next to my whiskeys and vodkas, neatly labeled 'Manali - for recreational purposes'. But that was only half my stash. The rest I found in my crime lab, labeled 'Manali - for experimental purposes'. Right next to it, I found Idukki, Kashmir, LSD, C17H21NO4, Pan Parag, Navy Cut, all neatly packed and labeled. A little while later, I found a pack of condoms wrapped under my pillow. This one however didn't say what it was for. Very thoughtful of Sara.
We detectives have a habit of pinning notes on the board. Suspect X on the left top corner, his brother to the right top corner, the brother's driver in the middle, X's mistress below the driver. To the average eye, it would appear the woman is Suspect X's brother's driver's mistress because their photos are pinned together. But the learned eye gets the message. We are used to this language of cross connections.
Sara, in her eagerness to clean India, had cleaned up my evidence board too. She placed all the notes logically and alphabetically. Suspect X who was in some corner earlier was now right in the middle.
"Kutty, did you see I have cleaned up your house," said Sara, bringing in the newspapers.
"The PM asked you to clean the country, not Kutty's home," I said, throwing the newspapers on the floor. Each one flew to a different corner.
Sara, however was her sunder-susheel self, she collected newspapers and placed them on my teapoy.
"Why are you not angry?"
"No, why should I be? Do you know what Gandhiji said?"
"I think he said we should clean our toilets."
"He said that too. But mainly he preached non-violence."
"Oh, the someone-slaps-you-show-the-other-cheek stuff."
"Yes. You throw the newspapers, I will collect them."
"I will throw them again."
"Then I will collect them again."
"Sara, if you don't mend you ways, I will do what the Congress is doing to Tharoor," I changed tack.
"What did the Congress do?"
"They made Tharoor see reason. Now he makes only conditions-apply tweets."
"I am not getting you."
"For example he will now onwards say: 'Modi your clean-up drive is noble, but first you have to clean your own soul.'"
"Oh ok. You mean if he has to say something about the jalebi at Chandni Chowk, he will say, 'The Jalebiwallah's jalebis are delicious, but they have to be had after Kareem's mutton stew' "
"That would be too simplistic, but something similar. 'Modi got a hero's welcome from NRIs in the US, but Manmohanji got a nuclear deal from Obama'."
"Enough of your jokes, Kutty. Give us five years. We will make a Shanghai of Delhi."
"By Shanghai, you mean what? You will rename Delhi as Shanghai."
"Appearance you fool. Bullet train, expressways, super expressways, flyovers, bigger airports, clean streets, toilets in every house…"
"All I am interested in knowing is, will we get chicken Manchurian and gobi Manchurian in our ration shops."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Now, who the hell is that Sara?"
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Kutty I forgot to tell you. A gift from New York."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Who would gift me a tape recorder that plays the Modi RaGa on a loop?"
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"The Indian-American you helped. You know, the one who was wrongly arrested in a murder case and you helped him prove his innocence."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"But why would he give me a tape recorder?"
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"It is not a tape recorder fool, it is a parrot. And you can't switch it off."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Don't these Indian-Americans spare their parrots even? Thathamme, poocha, poocha."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"You can't fool parrots with your thathamme poocha, poocha. The cats don't scare them anymore."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Is it a challenge? What if I can switch it off?"
"Without strangling it! Yes, it is a challenge. If you win, no clean India drive in your office."
"Modi, Modi, Modi, Modi…"
"Kutty, you are going to lose… this parrot is well-trained."
I went to my lab, took out the Manali kept for experimental purposes, stuffed it in a red chilli and made our parrot of American origin smoke it for full five minutes.
After the hookah session, the parrot cleared its throat and started again.
"Kutty, Kutty, Kutty, Kutty… Kutty, Kutty, Kutty, Kutty."
Tuesday 30 September 2014
Thursday 11 September 2014
Sunday 24 August 2014
Monday 11 August 2014
Wednesday 30 July 2014
Sunday 27 July 2014
Jasoos Kutty will eat what he likes, mind it
Blogs like these usually start with, ”Many of my best friends are Muslims, yet…”. I won’t do that, not because I don’t have any Muslim friends, but because I don’t have any friends at all. My field of work, spying, doesn’t allow such pleasures.
What I intend to take up is a news report that appeared in The Indian Express. A school in Kerala run by a Christian management served pork curry to NCC cadets. The school teacher served fish curry and pickles to Muslim cadets, and pork curry to the those who wanted it. The issue was raised at the local mosque. Later protesters vandalised the school, beat up some teachers. To add teeth to the protests, the newsreport says, people started coming from outside.
After the incident, the local community leaders have defended their actions. They appear as quotes in the news report.
“27 of the 100 cadets were Muslims.”
“40% of the students in the school are Muslims.”
“Pork was served during the holy month of Ramzan.”
Now what I ask is, was any Muslim student served pork? If no, why the protests.
The defence given by the community leaders is just plain lame.
Do Muslims stop eating beef during Hindu festivals as a rule anywhere?
Now tomorrow, if Hindus, the majority community, demand everyone else must stop eating beef during their festivals, will their demand be justified?
The school principal and the teacher in charge of NCC have been suspended for now. The education department takes pains to justify the suspension, saying protests would have got worse if it wasn’t done. Incidentally, the department comes under a Muslim League minister.
Religion plays an important role in Kerala politics. Just a few months ago, during the Lok Sabha elections, the Christian community, wary of rising Muslim intolerance, looked eager to break bread with the BJP. What would surprise many is all this is happening in Kerala, which prides itself for being the most literate state. But this literacy is skin-deep. Kerala is as communal, narrow-minded and misogynist as any other state in the country.
You would wonder Kutty, who rarely eats pork, should get so worked up.
The way things are going, the right to eat what I like seems to be the only thing worth fighting for in this country.
Jasoos Kutty will not let anyone else decide his diet.
Friday 18 July 2014
Jasoos Narayanan Kutty cracks the mystery of Maracana: Why Messi lost the World Cup
Parankimala is in mourning. Half the city switched off the neons,
brought down the flexboards, tore apart the festoons the day the yellow brigade
was ground to dust by a goal machine in their own backyard. The lights had gone
out of their lives, it seemed.
The other half was still hopeful. Their god still ruled the skyline in
these parts. Messi was everywhere. He came in mundu, lifted halfway and tied
around his waist, in avatars of Rajinikanth, Mohanlal and Mammootty. No, no
Sachin Tendulkar. Not because the fans hadn’t heard of the cricket god, but
because they hadn’t seen him in mundu.
In one corner of the city, Kutty’s Tea & Toddy had put up a poster
of the Argentina star telling the faithful, “Messi oru thadavai shonnaal, nooru
thadavai shonna maathiri.”
That was last week. This Sunday it all changed. Messi proved he too is
human. Like Karna, in his battle of his life, the genius forgot his
brahmastras, and missed the target by inches, yards and miles.
“Everyone says the Germans deserved to win. That they played well, so
they won. Bullcrap,” Kutty said to a group of tourists from India at his shop,
editing the last word to avoid offending a couple of censor board officials
present in the group.
“But they did play well throughout the tournament. They were the most
consistent,” one of the listeners said.
“The truth is always behind the scenes, I will take it to my grave. The
world will never get to know that.”
“Come on Kutty,” said Georgio, the detective’s biggest fan and abettor.
His prodding invariably made Kutty open up. And when Dhanno also joined the
conversation, wanting to know the secret, Kutty had no option.
“See, it started on June 12. A trend. I got to know of it when my old friend Velayudhan Kutty called me from Bangalore. He told me all the teams he was supporting were losing. Unimaginable because these were teams strong on paper, and in form. Yes, you could say their rivals played better football, but there was a reason for their playing bad football.”
“Oh, like that. Then what did you tell him?”
“It is all written in the stars. These days it is very fashionable to ridicule things like horoscopes but there is a science, logic and reasoning behind it.”
“See, it started on June 12. A trend. I got to know of it when my old friend Velayudhan Kutty called me from Bangalore. He told me all the teams he was supporting were losing. Unimaginable because these were teams strong on paper, and in form. Yes, you could say their rivals played better football, but there was a reason for their playing bad football.”
“Oh, like that. Then what did you tell him?”
“It is all written in the stars. These days it is very fashionable to ridicule things like horoscopes but there is a science, logic and reasoning behind it.”
“Oh, OK.”
Kutty surveyed his audience, saw faces lit up with interest.
“Often it is not enough that the stars are in your favour. If your supporters are having a very bad time, they will drag you down.”
“OK. So, Spain might have best alignment of stars but if their fans are not equally blessed, they could be in trouble.”
“Exactly. The teams’ fortunes are linked to that of their most fanatic fans,” Kutty explained, “And Velu, though India doesn’t play the World Cup, is crazy about 3-4 teams.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this? I don’t want to bore you, you know.”
“Yes, please,” the demand was unanimous.
“We spoke a long time, but I will give you a gist.”
*****************************************
FLASHBACK
SCENE 1, ACT 1
“See Velu, the harm is already done. You are late.”
“No, the team I support is taking the field tomorrow. Argentina. Something can be done I am sure.”
“I can try. Send me your date of birth and time of birth.”
I then took out the board and marbles I use to do fortune-telling.
“Hmm, Velu, the stars are not aligned in your favour. Rahu is on the left, that means 2+2+5+6+8… Kethu is Left of Centre… 23+3-2+3-2…”
“If you have trouble counting, I have a calculator here.”
“Can’t you just shut up? I will have to count again. Rahu is on the left, that means 2+1+4+3+2… Kethu is Left of Centre… 12+1-2+3-5…”
“Kutty, I think you are doing it wrong. Earlier the numbers were different.”
“Stupid, you interrupt again. The stars are not stationary, they keep changing position. I will have to count again.”
“But astrology is based on the theory that stars don’t move.”
“Can’t you just shut up? How many times should I repeat astrology is a science. It keeps evolving with every new discovery of stars, planetary systems, galaxies.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Let me start again. Rahu is on the left, that means 3+1+5+2+1… Kethu is Left of Centre… 12+2-3+4-3… Gulikan is right of Centre, that is 12+3+3+2+1… Shukran is right below 21+3-1+5+2… That makes it 30.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means bad news. Very bad news. No point holding it back from you. Can you bear it? Be strong.”
“Please don’t tell me Argentina will lose.”
“First tell me do you support just Messi or the entire team.”
“I have been an Argentina fan since 1986, when I saw Maradona kiss that World Cup.”
“Then it is worse than I thought. Velu, your stars are not in the right order. You suffer from a rare astrological phenomenon called ‘Mithram Parajayam Dasha’. Whoever you support will be booted out. But my wicked mind has a solution.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you switch over? Start supporting some other team.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Whenever there is an Argentina match, support their rivals. Be vocal about your support. Post messages on Facebook and Twitter. Slowly even you will start believing you are supporting the other team.”
“That’s very logical.”
“I will also suggest some measures that will accentuate your ‘Mithram Parajayam Dasha’. Are you ready?”
“Bring it on, Kutty. You will not find a more willing subject. I feel like a spy already, living a false life like you do.”
“Turn your television, it should now be on the western side of the room.”
“How do I know which direction is the west?”
“The best way is to wake up early and see where the sun is rising from. But you may check the compass app on your iPhone.”
“OK.”
“When you watch the matches, you should keep one leg on a teapoy or a similar three-legged piece of furniture and the other leg on the floor.”
“OK.”
“You should keep a red handkerchief in the pocket. If you don’t have one, a red rose will do.”
“Done. If Argentina win, I will treat you the best arrack you can get in Idukki.”
FLASHBACK 1 ENDS
*********************************************
Kutty rose from his chair to get a vodka-sambharam.
“Then what went wrong,” asked Dhanno.
“Velu followed my instructions to the ‘t’ and managed to get Argentina into the final. But then everything went wrong.”
“What happened?”
“In the final, he did what was needed of him till that fateful phone call.”
Like any good story teller, Kutty let the suspense fill the air.
“At some point in the match, he got a call from Kamakshi, his lover. He did his best to shake her off, but she wouldn’t let go.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know if I should be telling you this. See the world will go topsy-turvy if this thing gets leaked. This is the football world cup we are talking about not the cricket, whose fans are used to fixing and betting.”
“Oh come on Kutty,” Dhanno borrowed the chair next to him from Georgio, caressed his hair, “How many stories you have told us, have we leaked any of it? Never. Your secret is safe with us.”
Having got the right incentive and a possibility of a great night ahead, Kutty continued.
******************************
FLASHBACK 2
SCENE 1 (VELU IN CONVERSATION WITH KAMAKSHI)
“Velu, do you like me?”
“Yes honey, I love you.”
“Did you see the sky tonight. Clear like a crystal.”
“My friend Kutty tells me crystals can’t be clear, it is the impurities that make them look like that.”
“I can count the number of stars in the sky. One there, two to its left, three to its right… Come on Velu get outside. We will count the stars together.”
“Don’t be childish. How can we count the stars together? I am in Indiranagar, you are in Jayanagar.”
“But the sky is the same. Come on, get outside.”
“I can’t. I am watching the world cup final. Germany versus Argentina. The next one will be four years later. I miss it now, I have to wait another 4 years.”
“You are worried about the 4-year wait. What about me? I have been waiting for saath janam. Tell me now. Do you love me or not?”
“I do, honey. It is just that I want Germany to win tonight. Muller will score two goals. That’s my prediction. And Klose will score one. We will win 3-0. You just wait.”
“I like Messi, he is so cute. Isn’t he a genius?”
“What genius? He plays for a good team, Barcelona, where he has good company. Against Germany, he can’t do anything. Just see how we are marking him. He is not getting any space at all. We won’t let him pee even, without us watching him. Hahahaha.”
“Hohohoho. You think you have cracked a joke. All Messi needs is one moment in 90 minutes to weave his magic. And with all you defenders marking him, our other players will get space to score a goal.”
“Argentina has one Messi, we have 11 players who all play the same level of football. We have another six waiting on the bench to get on the field.”
“Messi will score.”
“No.”
“Do you love me or not?”
“Why do you do that to me? Always emotionally blackmailing me.”
“Then say Messi will score and I will forgive you.”
“Can’t you girls just drink like us and go to bed? Messi won’t score, no, no, no.”
“Who do you want? Muller or me?”
“Arre baba, it is only one night, let me watch the match.”
“If you love me, come on the balcony.”
“I told you, I can’t.”
“Did you see Bangalore Days?”
“We went together, remember.”
“Is that so, I thought I went with Ramesh.”
“Who is this Ramesh? Tell me now.”
“See, you got jealous.”
“No, not at all. I can live with that. I am mature.”
“Like Fahadh Faasil in Bangalore Days?”
“Don’t start doing that. Comparing me with Fahadh.”
“Why can’t I?”
“He is acting. It is just a movie. In real life, he is a jerk.”
“I don’t believe it. He is so tough. He oozes confidence.”
(Velu takes off his shirt, takes a selfie of his six-pack and sends it to Kamakshi.)
“Does Fahadh have that? A six-pack?”
“Shah Rukh, Aamir and Salman have it, and they are all 50 years old. You are jealous.”
“No, I am not. I am just trying to make you see reason.”
“Fahadh doesn’t need a six-pack. He is tough without one. The way he looks at me, ooommmmmaaaa.”
“Kamakshi you are being unfair, eh. That was a bloody film.”
“Did you see Nivin Pauly in that film? Any girl would want to be with him. So confident, and funny. The jokes he cracks, I fell off the chair laughing.”
“Oh those stale ones from Khushwant Singh’s joke book.”
(Velu swears at the Sardar, mumbles, ‘He wrote novels, edited newspapers, why the fuck did he have to publish joke books.’)
“No, they weren’t from Khushwant Singh’s joke book. I have read them. They were original ones.”
“Don’t you remember the joke I cracked when we were at the Barista’s on Brigade Road on Simi’s birthday? None of Nivin’s jokes comes close to it.”
“O!O! We laugh at your jokes to please you. Nivin is any day better than you when it comes to jokes.”
“Kamakshi, in the film did you see how Nivin was fooled by the air hostess? He spent all the money, and she sleeps with some hunk. Such a loser he is.”
“That Isha Talwar is a *****.”
“Messi just missed a chance. I told you this is Muller’s night. He is going to score two goals.”
“Don’t try to change the topic Velu. And Dulquer Salman. Isn’t he cool? He looks sexy in those sunglasses.”
(Velu takes another selfie, this time with sunglasses on, and sends it to Kamakshi)
“Is he better than that?”
“Who wears sunglasses at night? Velu, you are jealous.”
“No, I am not.”
“Oh God, how Dulquer rides the motorcycles. Fast and furious. The wheelies, perfect.”
“I can do better wheelies, it is just that I don’t break the law.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I will, just give me a chance.”
“No, you can’t. And whatever you say , Fahadh, Nivin and Dulquer are cool. I love them.”
“For god’s sake, they are all married, Kamakshi.”
“So what?”
“Now you are being unreasonable.”
“One last time, Velu do you love me or not?”
“I love you with all my heart.”
“Then come to the balcony, let us count the stars.”
“OK, I am coming.”
(Velu and Kamakshi start counting the stars together)
“One there, two to its left, three to its right, four, five, six, below the fifth one… “
FLASHBACK 2 ENDS
********************************
Kutty turned to his spellbound audience, which by now had grown by a few hundreds. The news had spread how Argentina lost the final, and no one in Parankimala wanted to miss the story.
“They counted and counted and counted till they reached 1,12,349. Then Kamakshi got bored and went to sleep. Velu returned to his TV, and saw the Germans kissing the World Cup. Messi was nowhere to be seen.”
“See Velu, the harm is already done. You are late.”
“No, the team I support is taking the field tomorrow. Argentina. Something can be done I am sure.”
“I can try. Send me your date of birth and time of birth.”
I then took out the board and marbles I use to do fortune-telling.
“Hmm, Velu, the stars are not aligned in your favour. Rahu is on the left, that means 2+2+5+6+8… Kethu is Left of Centre… 23+3-2+3-2…”
“If you have trouble counting, I have a calculator here.”
“Can’t you just shut up? I will have to count again. Rahu is on the left, that means 2+1+4+3+2… Kethu is Left of Centre… 12+1-2+3-5…”
“Kutty, I think you are doing it wrong. Earlier the numbers were different.”
“Stupid, you interrupt again. The stars are not stationary, they keep changing position. I will have to count again.”
“But astrology is based on the theory that stars don’t move.”
“Can’t you just shut up? How many times should I repeat astrology is a science. It keeps evolving with every new discovery of stars, planetary systems, galaxies.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Let me start again. Rahu is on the left, that means 3+1+5+2+1… Kethu is Left of Centre… 12+2-3+4-3… Gulikan is right of Centre, that is 12+3+3+2+1… Shukran is right below 21+3-1+5+2… That makes it 30.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means bad news. Very bad news. No point holding it back from you. Can you bear it? Be strong.”
“Please don’t tell me Argentina will lose.”
“First tell me do you support just Messi or the entire team.”
“I have been an Argentina fan since 1986, when I saw Maradona kiss that World Cup.”
“Then it is worse than I thought. Velu, your stars are not in the right order. You suffer from a rare astrological phenomenon called ‘Mithram Parajayam Dasha’. Whoever you support will be booted out. But my wicked mind has a solution.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you switch over? Start supporting some other team.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Whenever there is an Argentina match, support their rivals. Be vocal about your support. Post messages on Facebook and Twitter. Slowly even you will start believing you are supporting the other team.”
“That’s very logical.”
“I will also suggest some measures that will accentuate your ‘Mithram Parajayam Dasha’. Are you ready?”
“Bring it on, Kutty. You will not find a more willing subject. I feel like a spy already, living a false life like you do.”
“Turn your television, it should now be on the western side of the room.”
“How do I know which direction is the west?”
“The best way is to wake up early and see where the sun is rising from. But you may check the compass app on your iPhone.”
“OK.”
“When you watch the matches, you should keep one leg on a teapoy or a similar three-legged piece of furniture and the other leg on the floor.”
“OK.”
“You should keep a red handkerchief in the pocket. If you don’t have one, a red rose will do.”
“Done. If Argentina win, I will treat you the best arrack you can get in Idukki.”
FLASHBACK 1 ENDS
*********************************************
Kutty rose from his chair to get a vodka-sambharam.
“Then what went wrong,” asked Dhanno.
“Velu followed my instructions to the ‘t’ and managed to get Argentina into the final. But then everything went wrong.”
“What happened?”
“In the final, he did what was needed of him till that fateful phone call.”
Like any good story teller, Kutty let the suspense fill the air.
“At some point in the match, he got a call from Kamakshi, his lover. He did his best to shake her off, but she wouldn’t let go.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know if I should be telling you this. See the world will go topsy-turvy if this thing gets leaked. This is the football world cup we are talking about not the cricket, whose fans are used to fixing and betting.”
“Oh come on Kutty,” Dhanno borrowed the chair next to him from Georgio, caressed his hair, “How many stories you have told us, have we leaked any of it? Never. Your secret is safe with us.”
Having got the right incentive and a possibility of a great night ahead, Kutty continued.
******************************
FLASHBACK 2
SCENE 1 (VELU IN CONVERSATION WITH KAMAKSHI)
“Velu, do you like me?”
“Yes honey, I love you.”
“Did you see the sky tonight. Clear like a crystal.”
“My friend Kutty tells me crystals can’t be clear, it is the impurities that make them look like that.”
“I can count the number of stars in the sky. One there, two to its left, three to its right… Come on Velu get outside. We will count the stars together.”
“Don’t be childish. How can we count the stars together? I am in Indiranagar, you are in Jayanagar.”
“But the sky is the same. Come on, get outside.”
“I can’t. I am watching the world cup final. Germany versus Argentina. The next one will be four years later. I miss it now, I have to wait another 4 years.”
“You are worried about the 4-year wait. What about me? I have been waiting for saath janam. Tell me now. Do you love me or not?”
“I do, honey. It is just that I want Germany to win tonight. Muller will score two goals. That’s my prediction. And Klose will score one. We will win 3-0. You just wait.”
“I like Messi, he is so cute. Isn’t he a genius?”
“What genius? He plays for a good team, Barcelona, where he has good company. Against Germany, he can’t do anything. Just see how we are marking him. He is not getting any space at all. We won’t let him pee even, without us watching him. Hahahaha.”
“Hohohoho. You think you have cracked a joke. All Messi needs is one moment in 90 minutes to weave his magic. And with all you defenders marking him, our other players will get space to score a goal.”
“Argentina has one Messi, we have 11 players who all play the same level of football. We have another six waiting on the bench to get on the field.”
“Messi will score.”
“No.”
“Do you love me or not?”
“Why do you do that to me? Always emotionally blackmailing me.”
“Then say Messi will score and I will forgive you.”
“Can’t you girls just drink like us and go to bed? Messi won’t score, no, no, no.”
“Who do you want? Muller or me?”
“Arre baba, it is only one night, let me watch the match.”
“If you love me, come on the balcony.”
“I told you, I can’t.”
“Did you see Bangalore Days?”
“We went together, remember.”
“Is that so, I thought I went with Ramesh.”
“Who is this Ramesh? Tell me now.”
“See, you got jealous.”
“No, not at all. I can live with that. I am mature.”
“Like Fahadh Faasil in Bangalore Days?”
“Don’t start doing that. Comparing me with Fahadh.”
“Why can’t I?”
“He is acting. It is just a movie. In real life, he is a jerk.”
“I don’t believe it. He is so tough. He oozes confidence.”
(Velu takes off his shirt, takes a selfie of his six-pack and sends it to Kamakshi.)
“Does Fahadh have that? A six-pack?”
“Shah Rukh, Aamir and Salman have it, and they are all 50 years old. You are jealous.”
“No, I am not. I am just trying to make you see reason.”
“Fahadh doesn’t need a six-pack. He is tough without one. The way he looks at me, ooommmmmaaaa.”
“Kamakshi you are being unfair, eh. That was a bloody film.”
“Did you see Nivin Pauly in that film? Any girl would want to be with him. So confident, and funny. The jokes he cracks, I fell off the chair laughing.”
“Oh those stale ones from Khushwant Singh’s joke book.”
(Velu swears at the Sardar, mumbles, ‘He wrote novels, edited newspapers, why the fuck did he have to publish joke books.’)
“No, they weren’t from Khushwant Singh’s joke book. I have read them. They were original ones.”
“Don’t you remember the joke I cracked when we were at the Barista’s on Brigade Road on Simi’s birthday? None of Nivin’s jokes comes close to it.”
“O!O! We laugh at your jokes to please you. Nivin is any day better than you when it comes to jokes.”
“Kamakshi, in the film did you see how Nivin was fooled by the air hostess? He spent all the money, and she sleeps with some hunk. Such a loser he is.”
“That Isha Talwar is a *****.”
“Messi just missed a chance. I told you this is Muller’s night. He is going to score two goals.”
“Don’t try to change the topic Velu. And Dulquer Salman. Isn’t he cool? He looks sexy in those sunglasses.”
(Velu takes another selfie, this time with sunglasses on, and sends it to Kamakshi)
“Is he better than that?”
“Who wears sunglasses at night? Velu, you are jealous.”
“No, I am not.”
“Oh God, how Dulquer rides the motorcycles. Fast and furious. The wheelies, perfect.”
“I can do better wheelies, it is just that I don’t break the law.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I will, just give me a chance.”
“No, you can’t. And whatever you say , Fahadh, Nivin and Dulquer are cool. I love them.”
“For god’s sake, they are all married, Kamakshi.”
“So what?”
“Now you are being unreasonable.”
“One last time, Velu do you love me or not?”
“I love you with all my heart.”
“Then come to the balcony, let us count the stars.”
“OK, I am coming.”
(Velu and Kamakshi start counting the stars together)
“One there, two to its left, three to its right, four, five, six, below the fifth one… “
FLASHBACK 2 ENDS
********************************
Kutty turned to his spellbound audience, which by now had grown by a few hundreds. The news had spread how Argentina lost the final, and no one in Parankimala wanted to miss the story.
“They counted and counted and counted till they reached 1,12,349. Then Kamakshi got bored and went to sleep. Velu returned to his TV, and saw the Germans kissing the World Cup. Messi was nowhere to be seen.”
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