KAAPI!

Its wonderful aroma wafts through the air molecules and sinks in to the system while people get up to get their fixes. Or some others wait sleepy eyed at canteens or the roadside shops for that one cup of pure ecstasy. Yes I'm talking abt coffee, or as we call in our dear old madras filter kaapi.

Like a typical madrasi, I cannot function in the morning without my cup of filter kaapi. . But till date most of the time when I wake up in the morning there is amma handing me a cuppa. But when mom isn't in town, the wait in the morning is like pure torture. The wonderful aroma, the sounds of the sizzling hot water poured into the filter and of the milk boiling over is what gives you a jump start to the day. when I was younger amma always took me along to buy the coffee from "Leo coffee house" in Usman rd. Those huge coffee bean grinders never failed to fascinate me. The utter casualness with which the coffee beans were poured into the grinders and the seeming ease with which the grinders crushed the coffee beans into "kaapi podi" always unfailingly left me awed. I miss that! These days we buy the coffee powder in packets.

CCD has this tagline "A lot can happen over coffee". I agree. Although honestly one doesn't really get the same rush or enjoyment with a cup of cappuccino or an espresso served in mugs or cups and saucers. What we need is the good old davara and tumbler..Piping hot coffee in the glass which would be poured back and forth into and out of the davara for the coffee to slightly cool – just that wee bit so that the coffee did not end up burning ones palate.

Sometimes when we are at the beach we walk to this tiny shack and order a 'by-two kaapi'. The sad part is that nowhere else do you feel that love, that feeling of contentment not even when you're sitting in comfy cushions out of the sweltering heat at Barista or Mocha. It's when you hit a shack, order a by-two kaapi, sit on the wooden bench, stretch your legs, pour that coffee into the saucer-like cup, sip, and talk -- you say "aaah there we are!"

And what prompted this post? The debate if the world coffee chain conglomerate - Starbucks would soon come to India. As a self-confessed coffee junkie, I say there is no way they can ever replace my shtrong filter kaapi.

Harry Potter -HBP- A disappointment

" Its more dark and more adult" claimed the tagline. One of the movies that most of us were waiting for this year . But sadly among the many clichés, this year, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince disappoints the truly enthusiastic fan.

By the end of the movie , i thought i was watching some teenage love saga!! The subtle romantic byplay between Ron and Hermione was totally lost in the movie and Emma Watson seems to be portrayed as a love sick teenager, not the brilliant teenage prodigy.

Music by Nicholas Hooper when compared with the original soundtrack by John Williams does not really bring out the desolate times and is unable to carve out a specific role in the film.
The truly disappointing scene was the climax! I wonder what prompted Yates to have Potter stand by without doing anything while Dumbledore was being killed.

The scenes included by the director from scratch and that did not feature in the novel, the attack of Bellatrix, collapse of the Millennium Bridge, the initial scene where Harry is seen flirting with the muggle waitress could have been scraped to give room for others. The Gaunt family history and as the descendant of Salazar Slytherin Merope Gaunt has bewitched by a spell Dad Tom Riddle was completely ignored. There is no trace of Hepzibah Smith, owner of Cup or the the story of the Half-Blood Prince.

I wonder if the desire of Yates to lighten the texture in anticipation of turning the final venture more gloomy and dark. Although by emphasising on the "fun" parts in the movie partially emptied the true purpose of the book - to delve deeper into the psych of voldemort.

Climb the walls of insanity,
Ride the waves of despair.
If you fall it don't matter
There's no one to care.

Strong is good, weak is bad.
Be it false, be it true.
Your mind makes the choice,
And enforces it too.

Hide the pain, carry on,
Routine is the key.
Don't let on that you're not,
What you're pretending to be.

Lock it all up inside you,
How badly that bodes.
Look out for that one day,
When it all just explodes.

Leaving naught but a shell,
Base functionality too.
But killing all else,
That was uniquely you.

So how do you grow,
With a timebomb inside?
Or how to defuse it,
Without destroying its ride?

You can't. It will finally destroy you!

Moments - Part 1

They say, when you are eighteen, you have to fall in love with someone. She never thought it would ever happen to her. But still, there was something about that dude that was bothering her. He was not among the most charming guys in the gang. He was not even suave or funny. In fact he was kind of broody and Heathcliff like. Maybe it was his frankness and casual attitude that attracted her – she didn’t know for sure. There was one thing that sent electric shock across her body – his smile. Edison didn’t invent any formulae to calculate how much this version of electricity could affect people!

She had spoken with him a couple of times but each time she found out to her dismay that of all words available in the English language, she could recollect only ten or fifteen words! All grammatical rules broke down when she looked into his eyes. Her friends made fun of her , the class debate champion couldn’t string ten words together to make comprehensive sentences.

She didn’t have the courage to go and talk to him about her feelings. She knew he would never go for her. She was plain , pudgy and kinda dorky. To her he was perfection. She would never be able to handle a rejection. She loved hanging out with him. She decided it was better to forget all this and be his friend.

Years went by she went on to become a librarian and he a lawyer. They remained very close friends even though they lived quite apart. She helped him through a bad break-up. He was there when she lost her job. He soon found a job back in his home town.

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They were travelling by bus. They had taken to going to temples together every week. Looking out the window, she realized her head was beginning to ache. It was ridiculous really, she thought. Why was this so difficult? She thought she was over it. Over him. She glanced down at his large hand. Would he ever hold her hand in his? He could so easily reach out and touch her hand right now. Things had changed between them, hadn’t they? He didn’t treat her like that kid he used to hang out with.

He was lost in thought. She was different. He knew she had a crush on him when she was a kid. But now things had changed, he was certain of that. But he was uncertain of exactly what those changes meant. He knew she was just as happy as him to have him as her friend. But did he want them to be something more?

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His car broke down on his way back home. The car had to be towed. He could take a bus back home. But he pulled out his cell phone and called her. He didn’t think if the reasoning was right. He didn’t think if she would mind coming out here to get him. She came without hesitation.

The drive back was silent. They were both lost in thoughts. He realized how much he depended on her. How much he needed her. They reached his apartment. She gave him the slow half smile that

was so much a part of her. The smile that accelerated his heartbeat. Without thinking he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She turned to him and said “ I think ive had feelings for u, for a really longtime.”

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Objectivism - Fountainhead

I recently re-read it, and it was a very different entity than the one I recall reading at fourteen. All I really remembered was the red-haired Roark, naked on a cliff, spurned and individualistic, doing Peter Keating's homework, and having an incomprehensible but weirdly fascinating affair with someone named Dominique.

However when i read it now i look at it differently.I know a lot of people who admire Roark’s persistent moral courage, I personally am quite critical of his stubbornness and self righteous obsession. Roark says Happiness is self-contained and self-sufficient, and this seems to be the insurmountable obstacle I have with Rand's philosophy. Is being happy really that simple?

At his closing statement at the trial Roark says "Only by living for himself was man able to achieve the glories of mankind" .I disagree. Almost every great invention I can think of was created with others in mind. It seems to me that Rand has created a character who cannot exist in this world.

So according to Rand the only way one can find true happiness is by following one's own ambition single mindedly with no regard for what others think about it. Can one live in society that way?

The manipulative nature of Ellsworth Toohey leads to his downfall; The parasitism of Keating results in his mental breakdown; and the power cravings of Wynard make him powerless. Wynand fails because he is seduced by his need for the great volume of readers. However despite all this they seem more real to me than Roark. They were driven by vices of human nature. As far as i am concerned every man has his faults, even fictional ones.

Perhaps I can't get behind objectivism because I have too little faith in the human race to do anything without an incentive. Or perhaps it's because I can't see people as individual units,. I wholeheartedly believe that the way we define ourselves is not by what we think of ourselves, but how we treat other people.

Poo, Kolams and Mamas..

When i told my grandma that i would come for a visit to tirunelveli with her i was sure that the time i am here i would be bored to death. Suprisingly i find that im quite content here. I find myself appreciating small towns.The amount of one on one interaction is amazing, everyone seems to know everyone else's business.

So every morning at 5.30 when im up to put kolam (Ya suddenly ive become the pakka iyer athu ponnu :P) im accosted by atleast one mami or mama.The same kolam which i put in maybe two mins here at home takes atleast 15 mins to get done in tvl :).The conversation always goes the same way..

mama: ne sowndharam ponnu thane..
me: ama
mama: enaku unga amma chinna vayasu lenthu theriyum... unga appavayum nanna theriyum ( then follows a long story abt how they know our family..)
mam: ne enna panra ippo? unaku thambi undu ella?
me: nan Msc mudichiruken.. (get interrupted)
mama: ama shankar enna panran ippo? un perimma pasanga bombayla thane erukanga..(asks questions about almost every cousin or second cousin i know or dont know...)


i took my grandma to cast her vote. She forgot her glasses hence couldnt see the symbols properly on the voting machine. The electoral officer there says " madam neenga ungapaatikita ketu podungalen" .. im like "er...isnt tat lik wrong".. the dude says its okay.. Ethe in chennai he would probably be saying "seekirama votea potutu move panu perisu"

And then there are those really annoyingly chirpy mamis that i meet in the temple everyday.. even if i forget to keep Poo one day they'll make sure to get some and place it on my hair ... :)

Then there are the older thathas who accost you with a I-know-it-all expression and look sadly at you and say with a straight face..
"Biotechnology is useless.Nee IT panirkanom. So evlo pannum onakku kadaikum?"
When I mumbled some number,He looked at me wildly.
"Do you realize you are going to be poor? How are you going to live on a salary like that?"
I felt bad on adding an extra zero. I silently thanked aryabhatta. :P

Here is the picture of the kolam i put.. i also found the basket i made which i gave it to my grandma so took a pic of tat too :)








I made the whole basket by myself :) true story !!

Hilarious apology :)

Not mine... This is the apology note my friend sent his girl after a fight! i thought it was hilarious :)

1.“Because he said so” is not, as common consent states, a feasible argument.

2."Because she said so" is, and will always be, a feasible argument.


3. Manisha is a very beautiful girl.


4. Your the only girl worth making lists for.


5. If Harsha was correct, that would mean that Manisha was wrong, which is patently untrue, for the occurrence of “Manisha being wrong” merits the event of hell freezing over. I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but I think we’re enjoying fine weather.

6. Of course the egg came before the chicken. I don’t know why I ever suggested otherwise.


Yours sincerely, truly, forever and ever or at least until you chuck me to the side,

Harsha ramakrishnan