sambar magic(the tale of thondiraja)-part-8!(spoof)

March 11, 2009 § 5 Comments

Read part 7 here.

 

The king heard the sage speak out.It was the best speech he had ever heard,not even the home minister was capable of such,not even Obama was capable of such,not even ,not even,the Martian who tried to take over Earth was capable of such,not even ,not even,there was no comparison left, “ha! such wisdom” the king thought to himself.

To others around him,the king seemed lulled like he was watching a 4 hr Hindi movie, like the snake who was charmed in the street corners on some country, like poor people at the hands of corrupt politicians or kids on orkut getting hacked. And all the while ,the king was dreaming of a coup, that someone was talking over his kingdom. 

It struck the poor king,he burst out, ” What do you call a brahmin boy who can write with both his hands? ” 

The sage looked pleased,”ha so the spirits have woken up ,have they” , he said in a deep baritone,as if the moon had flown away. ” I know the answer,to your wit, ‘ ambi-dexterous’ (ambi – boy/man) ..ha ha ha,such wit,welcome to the land of thondi,whom am I speaking to? ” 

” This is the great spirit of thondi raja’s great to the power of 100 grand father,How are you oh! sage,you look as young as you were,when you made Alexander go back! My ,I remember,you were wearing those Chinese silk stuff,when did you change fashion?” 

“OH! I change my fashion,as it comes. My fellows rule the world of fashion you know.You want to go to Milan ,watch a fashion show and play football with Beckham,I have some passes for you.” 

“Ha! no,my time here is short.I am using a Prepaid connection and my we have recession in heaven as well,so before they lock me out,I need to get back. We are asking for a bailout,but since elections are approaching and the parties are busy wasting money on campaign posters and false promises…anyway,This is what I have to say,anyway,oyi, my son,do you hear me? ”

” yes thatha( grand father).”

” On the 5th full moon from today,go and climb the great peak of thondi and stand there,with some of your French wine,Swiss cheese and Thiyirsadham,that day we shall upgrade to the platinum thondi member. Be well dressed ,the special angles will be there and oh! they likes bribes,so have some nice gift handy for him.”

” oh! I shall do as you say thatha,but one problem,I do not take or pay bribes,I have been inspired by bloggers to not do so.I refuse to pay bribes.” 

“Ha! that is sad,make your choice,I have to go,my balance is almost over,my I should change connections,waiting for number portability..bye..”

The king woke up from the trance . He left so fresh, ha he had such wonderful ideas and he got the message,he dutifully recited it,like some sacred hymn,lest he forget it! He left as if he was growing younger by the day,like Benjamin Button…

Suddenly there was a blast and a gunman appeared,he placed the PK-A7 on the kings head and with a wild laugh screamed “Game over”….

Sambar magic(the tale of thondiraja)-part 2!(spoof)

January 4, 2009 § 8 Comments

Read part one here.

 

The king once informed,was elated.He gave his wonderful ministers a treat in the Taj,near the Gateway of  Thondi.While eating an exotic fifty course meal,he was informed,that the lady in question was angry and was planning to sue the king of thondi in the international court of justice,for using her name.Confused and perplexed,the king,had a second helping of each dish.

The great Thondiraja,returned to his court.He knew the only way to help cool a person who lived in the artic(almost),was to send a “hot” gift.The singer Himesh would have been useful,but unfortunately he was in England.The sight of the latest AK 74,caught his eyes.What better gift,to give a person? After all the cold might get to her head and she might need something to help.He would send her some wine from his vineyards in France and a few guns.

The minister was summoned and told to write a letter,intricately describing,the beauty of American culture and their wonderful screaming music.The minister being a financial genius,praised the wall street businessmen and their slyly tactics.The letter was then sprayed with the latest deo from axe.The wine and the letter were shipped to the Arctic.A couple of days later,he received a mail from the lady and that she was impressed.

The king didn’t not like this at all.The queen should be more terrifying,so terrifying that the devil’s of interviews should cry and wish to be exported to some country.The king sent her a CD of Suprabatham and wished her long life.

After all the hullabaloo the king,was tired and wanted some real romance.So before parading his fleet of concords to another country and hunting a lady,he wrote a post on his blog condemning the air strikes by one country on another.This way the ministers would be kept on their toes and they would not eat too much,get a heart attack and die forcing him to return early.

At the airport,while he was about to board his plane,in a rather filmy style,an old man with a long beard and a sitar appeared.It would be blasphemy not to give a full account of what happened,so the actual conversation which took place:-

King Thondi:-Who are you? I am off to find a wife,so unless you have a daughter,you can talk.Since that is unlikely,move out of way of I shall crush you.

The man with the bread:- Oh wise one,my name would not be needed here.But I am the man who can offer you solace.

King Thondi:-Solace,Quantum of Solace? I didn’t like the movie.That fellow looked older than you,old man.And i would have been a better hero.I don’t talk to people without names,so be fast,i don’t want to waste the tax payer’s money by keeping the planes running!

The man with the beard:-

My father’s name is Bhrama

and my fav line is Narayana.

Krishna’s best friend was Sudhama,

Narayana Narayana,

from the Himalaya to Kumari,

From Ganga to Kaveri,

I am the sage who has fun

All the while on the run-

I am Narada.

Or at least,i played the part in Doordarshan.So call me that.Anyway I too pay taxes,so follow me oh! great king,who can eat the enitre universe,please follow me,I shall get you a wife.

King thondi:-Ha interesting,now I can Identify you,the bread has changed you.A queen? Who is she? Is she hotter than Shakira? Can she dance? Can she sing? Oh! you great Narada? 

The man with the bread:-By the merc your father gave me,yes she is way way better,follow me.

And so the king ordered the planes to be shut.He wouldn’t have lost,after all the fuel prices ha come down.He then  followed the man with the beard.

They entered the forests,the king held his gun ready,there were rumors that a pink panther was moving about.But the man with the bread,motioned him to put the gun down.And then,like Ronaldo,measuring a free kick,the man with the bread,measured 5 steps talked to a tree,complained that the bushes had grown too fast and ran and smacked a near by stone.The stone bounced of another tree,enraged,he took it on the volley and this time hit went over the tree and landed some distance away in a small pond.

The scenery changed.There in the middle of what seemed to be a heaven in earth,was a river.But instead of water,sambar flowed.The king was stunned,why he didn’t know the Sambar river went through Thondi,he thought it was only a myth.

He then realized it was another world,a world with a world.And at that moment his phone rang.The Sambar magic began.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Once upon a time…

August 22, 2008 § 15 Comments

This is my 501st post 🙂

Once upon a time,
there was a thing called sea.
It was vast and wide as only I could be.
But one day humans decided that i needed to be bound,
for like other creatures on earth,it too hurt them dearly.
So they built towers as high as your eyes could see,
and sucked the water from the deep seas.
They left enough for ships to float
and for the water cycle to be upbeat
but the rest were stored for some other day.
Now the sea was a restless beast,
and it refused to accept faith,faithfully,
so it turned and rolled and waved,
as its nature was to roam and be roamed.
And man’s nature was destruction,
so without any humility or consideration,
he found a way to make the stored sea die.
as it died,mourned by all other creatures spared by man,
it vowed vengeance,
and promised it would unleash an unknown evil menace.
Then man,having realized his folly,
Just said sorry!
But everything else on earth was angry
and the stars were told to kill humanity,
without any sort of partiality.
And so man had then to face the mighty stars,
in desperation he called the Gods,
who had by time been buried,
by the same man’s insanity.
So with no one to save him,
he cried and cried till he made another sea.
The sea then forgave me and thus saved was humanity.
And till date whenever humans suffer,
they look up to the sea for help
and whenever he tries to exploit nature,
the sea restores his sanity.
So the sea,
keeps its waves going,
so that the wrath of man doesn’t hurt others
and the wrath of others doesn’t hurt man.
If we were to blow the sea away,
then we are digging our own grave.
So see the sea as something free
and holy,love it and speak to it,
but don’t make it ugly.

The sea is not just water,it is earth’s tears.

Thinking about my identity

July 23, 2008 § 13 Comments

What is the use? what is the use of this world?

It is always amazing,to know that we the significant micro(maybe even smaller) particles who make up the universe have some purpose and a life to live.Why i live my life,in a regimented way,going to school,supposedly learning things.What will it be like to be in another planet? What will I be,if i were in another planet.Would that planet too have death as we have?What is the big deal anyway of being earthling?

Think of the universe,as it is.I know it is too big to fit into my minuscule three dimensional imagination,but whatever little i can ‘see’,leaves me perplexed ,confused and in a dire need for becoming larger than life itself.Why how can something so big exist in the first place? When i was small,the sun was just ‘nature’ something which i was born into.It was a constant,to the mind which was ready to be tinkered ,it saw what what others thought they saw.The moon Always represented an old lady making ‘idly’.the beach was a place where something called waves lashed on endlessly and if i ventured into it alone,i would be eaten by it.My life was of prime importance to me.Being another heir of the mistake stricken ,unwanted humanity,survival was the instinct.

But as i grew up,i slowly realized,that things are different.In fact education does at least that much to you.You are told that we belong to a solar system and that the moon goes around us.The next time i saw the moon,i looked  at it as an entity who was moving around the earth.Now i am digging really deep to feel what i felt then.It is surprising that ‘life’ is so old.What are these memories? So are we a dream,a memory too?

Me writing rather typing,is an memory in more ways than one.Since i am writing i do not care what happens else where around me.Why would i react when i am content,why the moment will always be embedded in me,carved into me,for i am in tune with the reminiscence of the world’s making. Did we go to the heavens because earth never satisfied us? Why when did we realize that we were nothing more that illusive little creatures,who don’t know anything?

On earth everything has the touch of man,as it has of ‘god’.Almost all our fellow creatures,all the flora and fauna which were painted with the magic wand along with us ,have been cut,dissected,bisected,trisected and researched upon. We have arrived at the conclusion that we are the only ones who can think the best.We were after all the once who discovered the existence of God.

Our identity as human beings,has perpetuated from our predecessors.But deep inside all of us know that this is not our absolute identity.When we look at the sky and stare stars and suns ,we feel an old belonging ,the sight of home,after an hiatus to hibernation. Since we are the clever modern super humans in terms of an ever expanding brain and since we know about the big bang and such and such,we run a particle accelerator inside our cramped cavity,reproducing with a eerie contentment,what we feel is the origin of the universe.We revel in it for a few spectacular moments,we run the jocund clowns of happiness in us to such speeds that ecstasy is what we pronounce.We are all happy to be home,we wish to keep seeing our Gods for longer,but the ever severing mind,declares that you have to break the bonds,to live life and produce yourself to sacrifice for the betterment of man.You don’t want it.Who wants to move from home,after a long voyage?Who wants to travel,when travel is all he has done?Who wants to swim,when he has all the while swam?Yet since you are the mind,with a rhetoric puffed up displeasure you try to satisfy your real want with a chronic happiness ,which is at most momentary and small enough to displease the materialistic narcissistic in you and carry on with it.I am trying to write something and all the while i am thinking of the wonderous world,whose width widens my perspective.I am here and i am not.

What is my identity?Am i a lost sibling of a distant star,for whom if i am found,i will look the same as when i landed on Eden? Or have i crossed an Adam’s bridge,to burn all that was bad and mortal? Am i an entity for whom this body was a lease,lent by earth to write off her ever lasting loans?Or am i, simply an animal,a tainted beast,with the curse of thought and want of fantastical fantasies to suit my ill-tempered unbalanced mind?What am i anyway?

Yes,i feel lost.Yes i feel lost here too.Yet i can hear the world,but i can’t see it.I can hear the old song,but my eyes have grown used to this,so that the old song,is a poignant, nostalgic de -javu.i dream up lands,i build my castles.I am a man,a human,who has written tales upon tales with fairies and fun and frolic but i am also the man who writes edifices and breaths the voice of an enigmatic Satan,a suitable tool ,one sprung during my autumn,to sooth the God in me.yet i know,i do not need him,for i was the one who gave god a face,which he can hold high and i was the one who taught him to write,so that he can say what he felt.I lent a being bigger than me,i lent it not one but two identity,i created a juxtapose of the good and the bad,of light and night,of God and Satan,yet i fail at lending myself a single identity.I call myself the third.I am happy to pull the strings of the first too.Yet my fingers move without my knowledge in my sleep,they want home and what they see is that destruction can retrace me,to where i belong.

There is music playing in the background.The song is melodious.It is a classic,it breaths life into the creature,whose identity is his name and his music.Why what caused him to play and create music?Did he realize that if he struck his strings and quietened the world with symphonies ,he might be able to shriek out for his lost sibling?Or did he realize that when he played his music,he could be himself ,free and inheritor of freedom,the absolute transparent being,who could smile away adversity and sleep ugly to beauty? I am listening to his and with gusto summoning my aesthetic consciousness to appreciate his ballades.I try to feel the same joy he felt when his fingers were let lose upon the keys,to key in the codes of his disparity among humanity.But his code was always good,for such is the magic,of the hands who are at home,always,poor pathetic things,they can’t see nor hear,they are slaves whose only wish is to satisfy their master, as they feel that is their duty and destiny.

Movements.The breeze tickles the trees.Those gigantic beings let out giggles.Why among humanity their existence is varied.One day they are paraphrased as the basic need for the survival of humanity’s earth,the next day,they are cut by the very hands,oh! pathetic hands,they are the only ones who want to get us home.

If my hands know my home,then why don’t I?Should i close my eyes,for all eternity,so that the reality has a chance to roll the dice and bring me home to see its son?I wish i could,but i have a mind,who is a ardent appraiser of the rebellious me.I am torn by my hands,physically and by my mind mentally.I ask you both,i think of either home or heaven-hell only when i am felt free,to my peace.They refuse.I shut my eyes.The hands sway the puppets of infinity,they try to hail home closer.The mind eats into me,they ruthlessly try to disrupt the harmony and bleed my namesake into surrender,but they fail ,neither will give up,i am the used,i am the user,i am between myself.I am still wondering about me and my true reality,one thing is for sure,i will lose mortality when i find the reality,let it be soon.Mortality is lost,when sense of reality is found.

May the world be in peace.Home is not far away,the darkest night,is the last of winter,the coldest water is one before the hot.Let the world exist at it should,let every man reach his harbor and let every flight end at home,may the world be in peace,i go to sleep….

w(e)ave a tale

July 20, 2008 § 11 Comments

Below are 7 photos.You can write on one ,all or how many ever photos you want.if you choose to use more than one photo,there should be a connection between them…happy w(e)aving….

1)

2)

3)

4)

5)

6)

7)

tale of a land

March 15, 2008 § 1 Comment

movements rose,
the earth’s air
breathed cold.
the tales from the past,
once told with a lot of gusto,
now talked of twitter
heroes,who once rose,
to fill the world’s owes.
from rumble to rebel,
and then they tumbled
the opposing force,
they all did.

the scene perfectly lit,
the songs perfectly knit,
sowed the seeds of
rebellious wit ,
a nebulous plan
was draw,
one very few frowned upon.

the spirit was set,
though it seemed wet,
the time was perfect time.
the opponents were
sluggish it seemed,
the wishes to heaven
now bore it seemed
and their tenacious
fighting never lost fruit.

ken the lands,
ken the fields,
all battle perceived
and you will beseech
your wit to forgive
the unholy sight.
the land of the mighty,
which is still holy,
now lay stark with dead
thanks to people’s folly.

the minds rebelled,
the worlds trembled,
all in the name of peace-
one which will never be reached.
many weeped
as the demises increased-
all in the name of a struggle.
no one remained humble,
every one seeked the bubble,
the reputation troubled-
the huddle still flowed with the tide,
for the reputation
and the lands elevation,
to glorify themselves as a nation.

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with tales at the light shines the brightest.

%d bloggers like this: