SUKHA CHIKITSA

Away from Work, Bangalore and Internet for 2 weeks is no bliss or fun? YES; wrong answer.
I drifted to Cochin in the above-mentioned time and was in the luxury of laziness and motherly pampering.
All blames on coffee served hot by my bed.
Blame is on Papadams, payasam, paripu, aviyal, kichady, kootucurry, fish fry and curry, deep-fried chicken, and loads of gossip while I wash these down with hot karingali vellam.
Blame it on grandmothers’ special “maangai curry” her fresh baked cakes.
Blame it on untainted ripe mangoes from maternal home.
Blame it on my sister, who finds a reason to blame everything on me.

My stay at home has been no different, except that the duration is two full weeks and I am enjoying every bit of it. Occasionally the laziness catches up and the feeling of incompleteness or rather uselessness creeps upon; which is quickly pushed aside by the hot piping pazham poris and vadas amma makes for tea.

My fingers have been on the “grand rest festival” too, along with my mind; they did not have to flex even to mix rice and feed my mouth, it was taken care by my mothers’, oh what would I do if it were not for her. Hope that explains why I have not been posting. Damn my lazy fingers.
There is a lot of catching up to do, and after the sukha chikitsa, I do not think it will be a problem.

Few incidents in the past days have inspired me to writing a movie script; yes the typical Malayalam thingiee, boy meets girl; parents have a problem, that gets sorted out, but then the villain comes in; Horoscope this time and spoils it all; in the end… well I m not sure about the end… hope fully it will be a happy one. **sigh**
Talking of movies I got to catch up with some good Malayalam movies too; hey and I got a balcony seat for 40 Rs/-;yes 40 Rs it is.

**stretching and yawning**
Now, my fingers are hurting; after all, typing SO MANY words can get you tired.

It is time for my king size lunch. Today’s special Karimeen porichathu and Kaalan.
Please understand my plights and appreciate my effort at typing so much; so now, if you will please excuse me I have work to do.
BURP……….

Dedicated to singing and other acoustic pleasures.

Get home in the evening, after a whole day of technical and managerial folderol, for some tranquil and peace. But what you find is a whole bunch of the same kind all curled and mangled in a cocoon of complains and frustration. So I decide to find my peace in the loo, only the sound of flowing water and the newspaper ruffles and other unwanted bowel voices. All this and sound of singing….. ..
Singing????? Nooo…
But I was not singing, neither did I have a music player in the toilet!!!!

Is it my panicked mind playing games with me or the hallucinations at work? No this was for real, and for sure was coming from inside the house; it was coming from close vicinity. News papers, peace and my bowel can wait, like a lost soul in search of divinity I leave the tranquil of the toilet and step into the room, occupied by my friends Jayesh and Lazith, to find them sitting in front of a CD-Player; which was blasting a Hindi Karaoke CD. Both of them had their eyes closed and hands waving in a synchronized act. The sight reminded me of, two old, pot-bellied Bhagavathars lost in their musical trance during a performance.

Frrrrrtttttt…psssssssssss…frrrrtttttttttt.
Prrrrrrr.. frrrtttt……fsssssssssssssss

Oops,

The Bhagavathars were disturbed, they stopped the recital and looked very vexed.
I asked for forgiveness which was granted with one condition, I had to sit through the whole singing while the two of them practiced for the grand finale at office for some sort of singing competition.

That was the only time when I regretted farting so loud.
The rest of the performance every one had their hands covering their nose, wonder why.
___________________________________________________
I seriously appreciate and encourage the effort my friends are putting. Wishing them all luck, along with statutory warnings to their audience. GO GET THEM BOYS.

PS: This exaggerated write should not mislead the reader in concurring that my friends are bad at singing, they are really good; neither judge my hygiene and manners.

Tinku Tinku little star `do not kill me for posting this`

tinku tinku little star, how I wonder where you were,
right below my wriggly nose, all this while you were mine
when the galling horoscope is gone, when all blessings shine upon.
when all lights glow bright from high above,
tinku tinku little star how I wonder where you were.

PS: A cloddish effort at impressing 'tinku'.

Disclaimer: Any similarity with any nursery rhyme will be treated, merely as the reader’s delusion.