Tuesday, January 30, 2007

The funniest site on the web?

Checked out The Onion recently? Here are some headlines from ‘America’s finest news source’:

‘Thousands More Dead In Continuing Iraq Victory’
‘Troop Morale Boosted By Surprise Visit From First Dog’
‘Dictator Slays Millions In Last-Minute Push To Be Time’s Man Of The Year’
‘15,000 Brown People Dead Somewhere’
‘Pope Admits: 'God Ain't Said Shit To Me'’
‘Vatican Unveils New Rosary For Windows’
‘Christ Kills Two, Injures Seven In Abortion-Clinic Attack’
‘20 Terrorists under 20: A Look at the Dynamic Youths Most Determined to Make a Difference to Your Community’
‘Girl Moved To Tears By Of Mice And Men Cliffs Notes’
‘Google Announces Plan To Destroy All Information It Can't Index’
‘America Online To Build Three Million Home Pages For The Homeless’
‘NASA Launches Probe To Inform Pluto Of Demotion’
‘New Study Too Frightening To Release’

Wednesday, January 24, 2007


For a month starting mid-December, Kashi Art Gallery, Mattancherry, hosted artist Bose Krishnamachari’s Laboratory of Visual Arts (LaVA), an installation comprising a collection of books and DVD’s freely accessible to all visitors. The generous facilities included half a dozen wide screen LCD TV’s and many portable DVD players.

Work prevented me from spending all my waking hours at the gallery, which is just 3 km from home. Nevertheless the weekends were a treat, with the following films resurrecting the cineaste in me:

Dont Look Back: a documentary by D A Pennebaker covering the ever fascinating Bob Dylan’s mid-60’s tour of England.

L’Atalante: a classic romance considered the masterpiece of 1930’s French filmmaker Jean Vigo, who died at the age of 29.

The Decalogue – Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4: I could manage to see only the first four chapters of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s series of hour-long films made for Polish TV in the eighties, based on the Ten Commandments.

Jules et Jim: the classic film of the ménage à trois – a very French film by Francois Truffaut.

La Jetée: Chris Marker’s brilliant experimental film is high-concept science fiction – a highly original meditation on images and memory. Such a big punch in less than half an hour.

Aparajito and The World of Apu: Two and three in Satyajit Ray’s renowned Apu trilogy. Straightforward storytelling, lyrical cinema. Love Apu, love life.

Un Chien Andalou and L’Age d’Or: Luis Buñuel may be the baddest of cinema’s bad boys. Wild, crazy, offensive, exasperating, nonsensical. In other words, Surreal. With help from Salvador Dali.

The Seventh Seal: Ingmar Bergman proves that cinema can be the vehicle for the profoundest meditation. If the theatre has Hamlet, the cinema has this b&w beauty. Awe-inspiring.

Paths of Glory: Stanley Kubrick’s brilliant, passionate (anti-)war film.

Meshes of the Afternoon: Maya Deren’s short film is as avant-garde as they come. The higher mathematics of cinema – not for me.

Short Cuts: Robert Altman’s masterful adaptation of Raymond Carver’s assorted short stories runs an exhilarating three hours plus. The screenplay is a tour de force.

The Matrix Revolutions: Eyecandy/mentalfloss, by the brothers Wachowski. Third in trilogy.

Sunday, January 21, 2007


Went to Velankanni for two days. Though, I have no god to prey on, I look forward to the yearly pilgrimage with the family. Mainly for the trip across Tamil nadu, which I love. Huge expanses of land tilled and watered by hardworking people. The beauty of pure bred Dravidans.
I ve given a link to velankanni church's official site on the title, for those who are interested. U can hear Beatles, chanting halleluya !!!! More pics will be posted in my Photodome (click on Wolf's Eye under links).

Oh, I almost forgot, Clement tried some freak bike trick on an empty NH47. Luckily, He and His bike incurred no major harm. Both of them lost lot of paint. But as always Clement went to work the next day. Bravo Clement! Get well soon. Watch your speed. ;)

Sunday, January 14, 2007


One day, I was traveling with my father's friend from his house to mine, in Lagos, former capital of Nigeria. As we turned the corner and entered the Pfizer Road we saw a large group of people coming towards us. I thought it was a traditional Yoruba masquerade group which is a common sight in Nigeria. My father’s friend pulled the car out of the road and parked it, but kept the engine running. As the group came closer, we realized that it was not a masquerade. We saw a large naked woman being chased by a motley group of people. She was neither running nor walking. Suddenly the big group was in front of us. Three or four kids with shattered branches were running along her. Every now and then they beat her and the branches cracked loudly on her skin like a whip. She was not crying. Actually there was no expression on her face except for deadly paleness which shows tremendous fear. Her dark brown skin was glistening with sweat and blood. The kids seem to be thoroughly enjoying what they were doing. A man with a huge potbelly was trotting behind the naked woman holding a can. Obviously he is carrying petrol. And then we saw a kid, rolling a car tyre among the crowd. “Oh shit they are going to burn her” my father’s friend said. With a shock, we realized that we are part of an execution. The group was driving her towards the large bush beyond the dead end of the road. Even though the car’s a/c was on, my father’s friend was sweating profusely. I was confused, and started asking him questions. Under his breath he told me that the woman must’ve stolen something and was caught red handed. Now they will take her, into the bush and put the tyre around her head, pour petrol and would burn her alive. By that time the group had moved much behind us and into the bush.

We both sat frozen in the car. Then few women with kids on their back came along. I quickly opened the door and asked them what’s happening.” She is a thief” they said. “She had stolen a loaf of bread and a pair of cloth from someone’s house”. My father’s friend jammed on the gas and the car screeched on to the road. We drove like crazy before the burning smell of the tyre reached us.

Friday, January 12, 2007

The Black beauty

The provider of sweet and nonpolluted eggs to my daughters.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Nanu Guru

Suddenly I am seized by the thoughts of this great soul.
The path breaker. One of the reasons why we have, the so called 'Kerala model'.

Monday, January 08, 2007


Nikon CoolPix / Photoshop


It was a perfect fall.

vulnerability - flesh against thorn
brittleness - bone against stone
abrasion - sand against face
crackle - skull against flint.

whistle - mouthful of wind through the lungs
red - blurred sting in the eyes
thought - muffled and petered by a choke
fear - vague dull heat in the guts.
It was a perfect fall.


Nikon CoolPix/ Photoshop

Sunday, January 07, 2007

People of Aluva :01. Tarzan Joy

Joy is heavy vehicle driver. To be more accurate, he used to be a heavy vehicle driver. As a youth he was fascinated by vehicles. But unlike others, his passion was for heavy vehicles like Lorries, tippers, JCBies and bulldozers etc. So after getting a heavy vehicle license, he left for Middle East, where he had opportunities to fulfill his passion. Within couple of years, he became an expert in driving all kinds of heavy vehicles. He came back home after three years and got married to a beautiful girl. Marriage photo at his home shows a perfect couple. Joy beaming with joy. Handsome Joy with beautiful Mary. After a month long honeymoon, Joy left Mary at home and went back to Middle East. Three more years went by, and to Mary's joy, Joy came back home. He brought jewelleries and cloths for Mary.

After a week, Joy threw a party at the local toddy shop for all his friends. With toddy, they had boiled cassava and fish, shell fish, duck curry, fried crabs, huge fish heads and what not.. The court musicians sang the saddest songs on request and a glass of toddy. The court jesters cracked the wildest and the funniest jokes that sent Joy rolling on the mud floor with laughter. The party went on till mid night. Party stopped only when the supplies stopped. Joy had the time of his life. After six years of hard life in the desert, Joy relished warmth of his people, the camaraderie of the drunkards.

The very next morning, Joy came back to the toddy shop, and then party started. Party continued for three months. Then it was time for Joy to go back. But Joy extended his leave and partied more. Money in his account dried out. Joy pawned his jewelleries and partied more. Joy got a telegram saying that he no longer had any job. Joy put his hand on his wife’s jewelleries and partied more. By this time, apart from the toddy shop he started visiting Navaratna bar, one of our town’s important watering holes.

The time when his parties were solely sponsored by his wife’s Jewelleries, which was quite a lot, Joy started his famous swinging between the bars. He starts his day at the neighborhood’s friendly toddy shop and then swing to Navaratna bar and from there he swings to Premier bar and then to Swapna and then to Alankar and by teatime he will be promptly back at the friendly toddy shop to restart the cycle. Navaratna-Premier-Swapna-Alankar. It was during this time one of the witty bar birds named him Tarzan Joy for his famous swinging between the bars. The name stuck. Even his wife, during their hugely rare courtships, lovingly calls him Tarzan. And he loved it. That is the story of Tarzan Joy.

The reason for this entry is that, I saw Joy this morning near my house with some of his cronies. When I asked him what’s happening, he said that they are all going for fishing in the river. And that is what he does for his living.