Why Kamalu, why?

It pains me immensely to say this, but it has to be said – Vishwaroopam was an utterly idiotic film. Completely. I have never been more disappointed in my life. Not even when I found a pigeon lying on the side of the road , its eyes fluttering, and brought it home wrapped up in my dupatta, only to have it die on me as I fed it some water. No, not even then.

What were you thinking, Kamalu? I can’t believe you made such a senseless movie! It was made a comic out of, for heavens sake! YOU COULD HAVE DONE SO MUCH BETTER! The movie didn’t need a lot , just a little tweak of some semblance to logic, some sensibility and some nail polish remover. (HINT: Nail polish remover removes chewing gum. HINT to the HINT: Chewing gum is a metaphor for something that is stretched to beyond its rational limit.)

Don’t tell me you didn’t do anything to your face. You did not used to have such a conspicuous chin. Now it looks like that of Disney’s Hercules. Bad Kamalu, bad! You did not need that. You don’t need to enhance your looks, Kamalu. We love you for your histrionics, not for your anatomy. If we did, then we would have wanted you to be a 6 footer who looked like the child of Akshay Kumar and Hugh Jackman (I picked those two actors completely at random, totally objectively.), with a voice like Suresh Venkat (That Radio City RJ who used to announce on the radio in the early 2000s)(Another unbiased choice.) Honestly Kamalu, you are not tall, nor do you have a deep bass voice and you are still adored and worshipped. Doesn’t that tell you that you needn’t bother with all these modifications? You look fantastic for your age, you do! (Unlike your contemporary and friend, Rajnikanth. Now, he needs all that because he looks old!  YOU, on the other hand, GOT TALENT, BABY!)

Clever , Wisam sounds like Vishwam. Clever , how you portray that the child Nazra as more of an adult than that suicide bomber chap in that swing scene . See? I do appreciate you! And that Kathak song was just so sublime! So good, so goooooood! But you didn’t need to stretch that effeminate character for such a long time and neither did you need so many flashback scenes. Don’t you know when to stop with a good thing, Kamalu? And why exactly did you need Zarina Wahab, Nassar and Shekhar Kapur in those itty-bitty roles? You could have picked anyone off of the road at the last minute, for those roles! You wasted their talents, you did! Along with wasting money on cheap visuals – it was so obvious that the stunt scenes just had your face pasted on some gangly stunt man. Come on! Any 8 year old with MS Paint could have done that!

My main complaint though, is that the movie’s story is not put together well. Take the Bourne trilogy as an example. Do you see how each movie stands independently and still makes sense from beginning to end and despite it all, maintains a connection through all the 3 movies? You left so many puzzles unsolved in your movie that it just doesn’t make sense by itself. (Hey! If you want to make Hollywood-like movies, you had better be ready for some comparison to Hollywood movies.)

So I would like to make a prediction here – that the actress Andrea’s character turns out to be Rahul Bose’s character’s daughter – the very same Nazra. Ask me why, go on! I’ll tell you. The reason is that Kamalu had no problem showing us all those gory death scenes but didn’t show us the dead bodies of Rahul Bose’s character’s wife and child, even after he claims in the movie that they died. Why? Because they didn’t die! They escaped to Amreeka! Also, please note how Nazra is always addressed and mentioned by name only and not as a “he”. Hence, proved! Nazra is a girl and escapes with her mother to Amreeka and grows up to be Kamalu’s assistant/student.

Kamalu, I am only writing this out of love. I know you are capable of so much more. This movie is a cheap trick that you don’t need. Who could have been such a convincing ‘maami’ in Chachi 420? Who could have sung that first note of the line ‘Thappaana AaLu Ethilum VeLLum Yeda KooDam’ in the song, ‘DhaaguDu Datthaam’ so exquisitely? Who could have danced so splendidly in ‘Saagara Sangamam’? Only you, Kamalu. You are an excellent comedian, a refined actor, a magnificient singer, a graceful dancer and a lustrous lyricist. But, you don’t know how to use your own talents. So, if, by some stroke of luck, you do happen to read this, please seriously sit down and read this, OK?

All my love,

Laasya Chakravarthy

Five going on six..

As much as I’d hoped to avoid it, that situation did arrive in my blog life. The one where you only visit your blog when someone randomly comments on a post whose existence you’d forgotten about, when you only visit your blog to ensure that it’s not been shut down, or on days like today when WordPress, the sweetheart that it is, reminds your of the day it all began.

So yea, here we are today, on porcelainmelodies’ 5 birthday!!!! So all of you, sing along “sana halwa ya gameeeel……sana halwa ya gameeeel……..”

(For the ones thinking I’ve gone cuckoo in the head, that’s the happy birthday song in Arabic).

As our tagline states, loud and clear, the blog came about as a result of ultimate boredom. It’s different that we were in our early 20s back then, and shouldn’t have been as bored as we’d claimed, but that’s something to talk about another day.  I’d initiated the habit of blogging back in 2004 with another blog. One year after I began though, I lost interest in it and closed it for good. In retrospect I wish I’d at least been smart enough to save some of the posts I’d written there. But as the saying goes, one really can’t cry over spilled milk.

Nevertheless, this was my second attempt at blogging, which thankfully turned out to be more fun that I’d ever imagined it to be. Aside from the fact that this was something I began with my best friend and cousin, LC, this blog’s holds a really special place in my heart for reasons mentioned below:

  1. It’s always the people who make a place, a situation, and in this case, a blog very special. I walked this route with several others at that time and in the process ended up making friends of a lifetime. What began as commenting on each others’ writing, moved far away and beyond the world of blogging and we were left with a really wonderful and a strong friendship. This group and the friendship gained thereby, is my most priced possession in life.
  2. I never appreciated the talent of writers, or understood the difficulty involved in phrasing sentences until I began blogging regularly. If my first few posts felt like a concoction of GRE words, then it’s because I made big use of the thesaurus back then. But then, my approach towards writing changed, making it a hobby. Even though I still need to work a lot at it reading this, this, and this always remind me why I need to keep at it.
  3. Blogging coincided with the time when I began grad school. And accessing google reader each day, made hours of research assitantship, seem the best possible thing that could ever happen to me. In a sense, it was like traveling through people’s minds as some scribbled out recipes, some advised you on movies to watch (or not watch), some wrote travelogues, and  others made you laugh your guts out narrating their childhood incidents, and still others kept you updated with current affairs. Unfortunately, with the changes that it went through, the habit of reading and sharing posts died quite suddenly, as did the habit of reading many blogs!
  4. There existed a secret group of us, hehehehe. And we knew everything about you, you and you. And nothing more shall be said on that!
  5. Perhaps the most beautiful part of this journey though came from the exchange of comments and ideas between bloggers, some of which were taken offline, to a new level, ultimately leading to the realization that this world is indeed a small and special place to be in.

So here’s to many more lovely years of blogging to us and all the other bloggers whose journey began around the same time as ours! Happy blogging!!


Warning: This isn’t a happy post, so feel free to skip reading it. Also, it’s a momentary thing, so don’t call me asking me if I’m still upset. Chances are that by the time you read this I would have moved on.

People tell you that this is the age when you’ll discover the joys of your first job. You’ll buy your first car, leave home for the first time, fall in love, learn to cook, etc., the list is really endless. But nobody touches on the topic of death, and says that this is also the time when many of us will face the most unfathomable and harsh truths of life – death.

I lost my grandma a year ago. I lost my uncle a month ago. Another relative passed away two weeks ago. Just a few minutes back, I heard about the death of a very nice and friendly lady. Someone who I came across through my work. Ms.B. I just saw her two days ago. She was suffering from a slight cold, one that people always take for granted. It’s just a regular cold right? What can it do? Pop in a couple of pills and sleep, and you’ll wake to find that all is well. Unfortunately, she never woke up.

I’m not devastated with this news, but I am a little shaken. I’m unable to pen out what I’m thinking. Perhaps I’m afraid to think of anything. All I want to do right now is hug someone and sleep. Maybe cry a bit. I don’t know.

The twenties. This is the time when people give you lots of unsolicited advice. The only one that’s mostly true is that life goes on with or without you. So despite it being tough, you too must move on. Just move on.

I woke up with a zeal for studying today. This was going to be the day when I finished 8 chapters and proved to myself that I still had that kind of drive in me. As guessed, only the opposite happened. I’ve been sitting in front of this fat-know-it-all textbook, and have only managed to scrape through half a chapter yet.

Research says that it’s better to still study a bit, rather than nothing. Unfortunately, I’m not blessed with unlimited free time before my exam. As I watch the hours tick by, I know that I’ll probably just manage to complete 2 chapters today. But as the pressure builds up, and the day gets closer, I may pick up the speed and double the effort that I’m currently putting into comprehending and retaining information presented in these 700 pages.

I wish someone would make a rule that beyond a certain age, like, umm 25, one must not be allowed to sit down for exams. Instead, he/she must be asked to work and demonstrate their knowledge or command over a topic. I find it highly insulting that I have to appear for a 120 multiple-choice exam. I feel like telling the examiner, just talk to me, and I’ll give you all the answers. Why torture me for 400 hours or more, like this? Haven’t I done enough already?

With the satisfaction of having vented it all out, I’ll get back to studying now. Adios!

Ide raagadalli..ide taaLadalli

There are some songs, movies, books that don’t seem special to you after about 20 years from the time you first encounter it. But then, there’s a nostalgic piece attached to it. Perhaps the book was given to us when we were most upset in life, or we listened to those songs while on a class picnic, or we recollect dozing off to only a certain melody sung by a parent. Whatever the reason be, coming across those special items, at any point in life only draws me towards my blog, to write a post:)

My association with music from the Kannada film industry began with a cassette in appa’s car in Oman. This was back in those days, when we went picnicking, exploring and finding new patches of grass in different points of the city, exclaiming “Yay! New Park!!”

The most exciting part of the journey was not surprisingly, the music:) We had V aunty in our car, who is blessed with the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard, and if not her this cassette with old kannada songs. Of all the songs that the cassette had this one particular song stuck to my head with strength that can challenge fevicol anyday!

When I listen to it now, I know that it’s not my top favorite kannada song. It’s purely nostalgia that makes me want to listen to it. Whenever I hear it, I rememeber V aunty humming it “la la la la ….idey raagdalli, idey taaLadall,” while doing the dishes, and looking at me to say “yaake summane nintidya? neenu haadu!” (why are you standing idle? sing along!) Thrilled to no end with the opportunity, I’d too sing it with her.

A few years back I asked appa if he had that cassette. Not only did he say he didn’t, he also said he had no recollection of such a song. Hmm. Was I supposed to believe that this was just a figment of my imagination then? Thankfully, youtube had come along by then and I was able to find the song. Yay!!

So here’s what I’ve been babbling about since the last three paragraphs, with a warning about it’s ear-worming capabilities. Enjoy:)


It’s funny how the human mind works. How certain thoughts choose to appear only during certain times of the day, and how they won’t escape the mind unless a solution is reached. A solution that’s whole-heartedly acceptable.

It’s also strange how these thoughts only appear at times when the mind is supposed to be the calmest. During the night. It makes most sense to me that they should make their appearance during the day, when one’s most alert. But again, perhaps at such times you’ve better control at diverting your thoughts to something right and productive?

Ultimately it’s true that time heals everything. So, despite the restless nights with limited sleep, I’m going to give myself time. Lots of time. And a little more. And I’ll wait for my 8 hours of sleep to return some day. For after all, as my closest friend always tells me, this is just a phase; and like everything else in life “this too shall pass.”

Pitter patter

There’s something so incredibly fresh, happy, and romantic about the rain. If I am right, I’ve probably already penned down my thoughts about the rain somewhere in this blog. But would you blame me for getting the urge to write about it again, if you knew that I have an amazing view of a green city, dark n dusky clouds, a warm cup of coffee, and a playlist of some of the most amazing Bollywood tracks to pamper myself with?

Rain in Oman was such a rare event that when it occurred most desi families used to step out to get wet/go on a drive/smell the fresh air/or simply socialize. To the locals though, it was similar to facing an earthquake. With a mere few drops on the road, cars would skid, bang into each other and people would start fighting with each other in Arabic cuss words that I forgot to learn prior to exiting the place. It was a hilarious situation, as you might imagine, to observers who were used to lots more than light showers.

Coming back to the today, to my beautiful Nashville, I know that right now, if I had a car I’d have stepped out and gone on a long drive. I once drove in the heaviest of rain, while in Tally, all alone. It was the scariest drive ever, because I couldn’t see anything in front of me. I’m not sure if I long for more such drives, but that was an amazing experience! And given the strength of the rain that we’re having right now, driving to Natchez Trace would be perfect.

If my best friend were here, we’d have sat in my balcony, spoken about the world, and stuffed ourselves with vada pav. If my appa was here we’d have probably eagerly waited for it to pour and then stepped out to get drenched in the rain. Or we might have gone on a long drive too. On such days, it’s really hard for me to focus on work, and it takes an incredible amount of effort to stop myself from getting nostalgic. If it were up to me I would declare all rainy days as work from home days.

This would have please a lot of the junta here, except for those who think rainy/cloudy days are depressing. It was only after coming here that I realized how people’s moods are sometimes strongly dependent on the weather. It’s one thing to say that prolonged days or sunshine or rain affects some moods, but I have no words for those who crib each time it rains.People look at me weirdly when I talk about enjoying the rain by stepping out. Sadly, most people here have learned to only appreciate everything unnatural. It was only in Tallahassee that I learned to fear rain, thunder, and lightning. The first time I saw a huge downpour there, I ran out to get wet. A few minutes later, I was called back into the house by people stating that lightning can sometimes be low enough to strike a human. Or when I hear roaring thunderous sounds, I have learned to fear them and seek protection of some kind.

I can continue writing about the rain for hours together. I’ve sadly run out of my break time and have to now get back to working. But here’s a much adored, not so famous song from the album Piya Basanti. Enjoy!