Lateral Perspectives

The huge world inside a tiny head

Childhood

Came across this video below a few days back. To say I was stunned would be an understatement. This is what I love best about cinema- the visual art. It stirs and moves something inside you. It makes you writhe with pleasure to see something you can identify with. Something you long to return to, something that has been lost ever since you grew up. Something this current generation will never be able to understand. Our childhood, the safely kept aside, hidden, sweet childhood.

What astonishes me is the total lack of applause for this visual treat. It speaks tons, my readers, tons!

My own childhood is very well a blend of this, heavily leaning to the rural side.

It shows the life of two girls growing up. One, a rural life, a conformist, the other, a rebel.Even at this time, the director was able to portray the rural life quite accurately. The visuals might resonate best with women from Kerala,India.

The actors, the growing up phases. Even the scene where the milk glass is on the ground and biscuits around it  is oh so lovely!  How both women looks at the world around them, their doubts, their anxieties, the curiosity about their bodies, Aashique Abu, you deserve a golden globe, sir.

There exists a third category,  a blend of these two. I am one of them. Sometimes I feel this identity crisis- am I a village   boy, or an urban one?

You can check out the lyrics here.

https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-English-translation-for-this-malayalam-song

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The Earthly Connection

I moved my house recently to Marsiling (Singapore).  Even though its a bit further in than I wanted, I simply adore the location. Just outside the house, there is a kids play ground. I could just sit in my room and hear the tiny joyful noises. I miss my little cousin so much!

Also, its like a garden over here. Not sure if it is done by the residents or the government, it certainly is a beautiful site to behold everyday. Bougainvillea looks so pretty. And to top that, we have an actual hill just near the house.

I was always fascinated with hills. Something about it makes me wants to climb it. There is not a hill I haven’t climbed in a 5-mile radius back home.  I just climbed the hill day before yesterday. At 4 AM in the morning. I had come home after night shift and was trying to sleep. But ended up tossing and turning. That’s when I decided to climb the hill. Though not windy, it had good breeze that helped to calm my mind. Went over to a secluded area, and just laid down on the grass and stared at the sky. The moon was full, the sky clear. Couldn’t have asked for a better setting.

Why I am telling you all this?  Because during that time, I felt something I have experienced only few times in my life. The “Natural High” , I call it.  A state of complete peace. Serenity.

Previous time was June 2015. When we went on a bike trip. 3AM. in the Munnar hills. Sitting on a viewpoint, gazing out to the valley below me, mist slowly twirling, I went in to that state. I remember my friends shaking me up. They said I was sitting motionless for around 15 minutes and did not respond to their calls. Loved it.

20150606_060549The next day, climbing down another hill, tea leaf plantation on side, a green plateau down below being graced by morning sun, wind on my face.

20150607_125104

 

Before that, 2014 New Year’s day in Singapore- at Siloso beach. After the new year party, we had gone to the beach side to chill. The rest of them were still dumb from all the drinks. Since I don’t drink, I was much alive. Simply sat at the shore, leaning against a tree, stating at the sea. I recommend this to anyone and everyone. Do this at least once in your life. Stare deep into the sea, feel the waves rolling into the shore, listen to the sound of the sea. And watch that while the dark night slowly starts to brighten and day comes in. Simply magical.

Time now goes back to teenage. Quite a jump there heh.

I’m outside the house. Mom’s shaking her head because it was exam time and  this little boy wanted to play. Went to my friend’s house, but was chased away by their parents because apparently, they had to “study”.  Off, the little boy dashed to the hill. There were no houses near it, and it was pretty deep into the thickness. On one note, it was pretty dangerous for me to be there. Anywayyy,  strolled around for a little bit. It was around 5 PM then. Layed down on the grass so green, erm..it was like 1080p HD blu ray IMAX green..well, you get the idea…

Ever noticed the evening sun? Evening sun is Midas. It turns everything into gold. I wish I could show you the picture that I am reviving from the memories. Golden light diffused, sharp smell after the rain, and beautiful clouds. This was my first high.  Just lied down there, watching the clouds trying to hide behind the big tree.

Why am I saying all this? Because I realized I had lost my connection with Mother Earth for a long time. Apart from the occasional trips that we go  on during holidays, rarely do we take the time to sit down and just do nothing.  That sense of restlessness that you often feel? I believe much of it has to do with being away from nature( or because we don’t have a gf/bf – single people unite!). We ty to distract ourselves with movies, books and music. Not that they are not needed, but everything has its place.

We humans evolved from being hunters to localized civilians only in the span of a few lifetimes. We still have strong connections to our mother Earth.

So dear reader, do yourselves a favor – you don’t need to go to exotic locations to feel nature.

Go to a nearby hill or park, lock your phone( no instagram shit please). And just be there. Open your eyes, watch the clouds, hear the birds. No cigarette, no whiskey, get your natural high right there.

Like Beethoven said, Muß es sein?

Es muß sein!

 

 

 

 

Intimacy

More than just being curious about sex, I crave for intimacy. 

I wonder how it is to sit beside a person. To have her head on my shoulders. To entwine my fingers with hers. To kiss her on the forehead, and then talk about something, anything – a past memory, a future plan. 

To sit somewhere windy, to feel that wind, and to hold her close. That sense of being together. 

It must feel wonderful. Isn’t it?

You lucky little fucking couples. 

നാണിയമ്മയും ടിപ്പുവും

  

My Selfish Post

I’m one of those people who despises people who are naive. So much that, this post itself is a blaring horn of hypocrity. 

I confess. I’m a weak person. Although I do not like taking selfies, I’m a sucker for a good picture of mine. Especially because it’s very rare that I get a good picture of me. Top points if my wild hair looks cool. I will be the one usually, behind the camera, to get a good picture of other people. And people in return helps to take piss poor picture of me with the same camera.

Now before you judge, I was not insisting(much) to take these pictures. My colleague had bought a camera and wanted to try taking some pictures. I obliged. And me so happy with the pictures that I wanted to share it here. 

Then again, this is my bloody blog and I can put whatever the fuck I want. This is me on a friday night (Saturday morning) after work around 3AM Singapore time.

   
 

Mom

My brother got married last year.  It was an arranged marriage(Yes, I know, its silly- but my brother and my sister in law is lucky).  She is a lovely lady, we all fit very comfortably with each other.  

One of the major problem after a wedding would be the integration of the wife to the family.  My mom is a lovely person. I am not boasting, she is a such an angel, with a big heart and forgives everyone almost instantly. One of my major concern for my sister-in-law was how things would be between her and my mom.  Not to my surprise, they go together awesomely. Quite a cute, happy little family.  

Now, if I had even the teeniest bit of doubt whether my mom did actually like her daughter-in-law,  it was pretty much cleared last night.

 My brother is currently overseas, and his wife was away at her own home for a couple of days. Both me and brother usually calls home several times a week. But past week, we did not call after Monday. And when I called home on Saturday, the first thing she said was this,

I was wondering why none of my three children have not called me again this week“. 

Three. She considered my sister-in-law as her third child. It’s hard to explain what I felt. If I was near her, I could have just hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. 

Every person should  be lucky enough to hear such a statement from their mother-in-law. 

Love you loads mom. 

Favourite Song lyrics

I will need to create a section where I can post the most beautiful song lyrics that I have come across.  English, malayalam, tamil and Hindi shall be covered mostly. 

Netru Illaathe Maattram Ennathu? 😉

888 Plaza

888 Plaza is a food court between Woodlands and Admiralty, and had had tiny influences in the course of my life.  I intent to write some pieces on it. About the lives of different people that passes through this place.  Where they eat, drink, plan and dream through their lives. So I am reserving the name to be used for my future novel 😛

Musings

This is where I am going to scribble those thoughts that are seemingly independent. Those sentences fully structured in my mind, but orphaned due to being unable to connect to any larger story.

  • I like logic, but think in abstracts. However my actions are random and hence, the result, chaos.
  • Sometimes, when I look out into the world, I am scared of not being to able to fit into this group. These macho men who knows the switches and gears, they who takes the machine apart, and know how it works. I don’t think i have whatever, that which makes these guys awesome. The Men of the Quarry, the mechanics, the brains.
  • It’s very hard to define the boundaries that should and shouldn’t be crossed, since much often, it depends on the people that surrounds you. Plunge into a different world and you will see yourself running for cover
  • It’s not until you chat up with a stranger, or someone you haven’t met in real life, that you start to actually think about the people you talk to in daily life.

    You know their perks and quirks. You are assured of how those close to you will react. You imagine the way they laugh. Some would giggle, some would howl, another would bang the table and laugh their ass off.

    You imagine how they go when see something cute. Their expression softens, there would be a tiny sparkle in their eyes. Their persona suddenly brightens up for a while.

    You understands how they would act if what you said pisses them off. They would shut their damn phone, throw it on the bed, kick the poor teddy bear, slams the door, snaps at anything and everything. Or they do nothing, which is even scarier.

  • You are still there, alive, among the twists and turns in the stories that I have written.

    Part of you here, part of you there,in the musings of love,in the pain of sadness, that innocent story about the child, that senseless story of the princess, you are there, alive and well, invisible to them, real to me.

  •  The difference is that our judgments are by-products of our conversations and not the end goals of our conversation (like the current question implies). However, there are situations like the job interview where every conversation you have is to judge an aspect of your intelligence.
  • I want to tell the story of a person. All his happiness, his fears, his dreams, his insecurities,his power struggles, how sees the world, how he thinks the world looks at him. What he thinks of the that book, that movie, that painting, that dance, that music.

    How we felt riding the bike through the green hills with the mists swirling around him.

    How he felt as he saw the love of his life drifting away.

    How the plane lifted off into the sky as he listened to someone complain that he was tired of travelling.

    How that kid in the train didn’t stop running around and kept caressing the face of this beautiful lady.

    About that drunken man who slept on the train, how the train stuffed with people suffocated him, at times.

    How the stars shimmered in the lovely moonlight, with the cold air on his face.

    The way that one friend always laugh at your jokes. That deep, belly laughter,that sends down another wave of seemingly never ending times of joy.

  • “When music hits you,you feel no pain”

I disagree. Under proper circumstances, music has produced the worst kind of suffering that I have known. A few vibrations in my ear can cause my fists to clench, increase my heartbeat,blur my thoughts. Such as listening to Evanescence, Rahman and Illayaraja’s composition.

It’s the worst kind of pain because suddenly you are drowning. Drowning in a flood of memories,emotions,anger, and terrible terrible sadness.

Even worse, it’s beautiful. The sweet innocence and the gentle touch that produces the melody from the piano. The vibrations from the guitar, and then comes violin. I don’t even know what to do when the violin rises to its crescendo. And at last, as if instruments weren’t enough, comes the unearthly divine voice.

All you got to do is press a button,and you fall into a depth thats hard to fathom. That is music. The most beautiful punishment you can receive.

Orhan Pamuk

Ever since I read “Snow” back in 2007,   the single most important book in my life, I always wanted to read another one by Pamuk. I did find his books in the library,  but for some unknown reason, I didn’t want to read them. Remember, I was 15 when I read Snow, and was enchanted,  but deep down in my heart, I knew,  I wasn’t mature enough to grasp his thoughts and similes.

Every time I went to the library,  this thought nagged me, and was somehow forgotten, yet still there,  like that object in your desk. You know its there, you are aware of it, but you dont glance at it often enough.

And now,  8 years after Snow, I laid my hands on “My Name is Red”.

Finally I can be at peace temporarily,  for   this is another book that will alwas be in that special drawer.

Orhan Pamuk, you are more than a  master storyteller. You are much above that, and deserves to be among the living legends.  I do not have enough words in me to describe my affection for you and your words, and I shall not attempt to do so either.

All I can say is,  Thank You Sir.

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