ദിവാന്‍‌ഖാവടിയില്‍ രാജധാനി നിന്നപ്പോള്‍...

റെയില്‍‌പാതയുടെ ഓരത്തു കൂടി അയാള്‍ നടന്നു. പാത വന്നതില്‍ പിന്നെ അയാള്‍ക്കു എറ്റവും പ്രിയപ്പെട്ടതാണു രാവിലെയും വൈകുന്നേരവും ഉള്ള ഈ നടപ്പ്. പാതവക്കില്‍ ആരൊക്കെയോ ചീട്ടു കളിക്കുന്നുണ്ടായിരുന്നു. അയാള്‍ അല്പനേരം കളി നോക്കിയിരുന്നു. പോകണം. നേരം ഇരുട്ടി വരുന്നു. അവന്‍ എത്തുന്നതിനു മുന്‍പു സ്റ്റേഷന്‍ കടക്കണം. അയാള്‍ വേഗം നടന്നു. സ്റ്റേഷനിലെ ട്യുബ്-ലൈറ്റ് അങ്ങു ദൂരെ കാണാം. ദൂരെ നിന്നും ചൂളം വിളി കേട്ടു തുടങ്ങി. അവനിങ്ങു എത്തി കഴിഞ്ഞു. ഇന്നു നേരത്തെയാണല്ലോ. അയാള്‍ നടത്തതിനു വേഗത കൂട്ടി. അധികം സമയം വേണ്ടി വന്നില്ല. എന്നത്തേയും പോലെ ദിവാന്‍‌ഖാവടിയെ ഒരു പുച്ഛത്തോടെ അവഗണിച്ചു, ചൂളം വിളിച്ചു അവന്‍ കടന്നു പോയി.

അയാള്‍ സ്റ്റേഷനിലേയ്ക്കു നടന്നു. പച്ച ലൈറ്റും ആയി കാബിനിലേയ്ക്കു മടങ്ങുന്ന സ്റ്റേഷന്‍ മാസ്റ്റെര്‍ അയാളെ നോക്കി പറഞ്ഞു, “ഇന്നവന്‍ നേരത്തെയാണു”. ഒരു മന്ദഹാസത്തോടെ അയാള്‍ മുന്നോട്ടു നടന്നു. പാത വന്നതിനു ശേഷം ആണു അയാള്‍ ആദ്യമായി ട്രെയിന്‍ കണ്ടത്.പല തരത്തിലുള്ള ട്രെയിനുകള്‍. ലോറികളേയും ട്രക്കുകളേയും എടുത്തു കൊണ്ടു പോകുന്ന ട്രെയിനുകള്‍ വരെ.എങ്കിലും അവനോടു അയാല്‍ക്കെന്തൊ പ്രത്യേകം ഇഷ്ടം തോന്നിയിരുന്നു.ദിവാന്‍‌ഖാവടിയില്‍ എല്ലാ ട്രെയിനുകളും ഒരിക്കലെങ്കിലും നിര്‍ത്തിയിട്ടുണ്ടത്രേ, അവനൊഴികെ. “ഒരിക്കല്‍ നമ്മുക്കിവനെ ഇവിടെ പിടിച്ചിടണം. ഒരു പത്തു മിനുട്ടു നേരത്തേയ്ക്കു സിഗ്നല്‍ കൊടുക്കരുതു. തീരട്ടെ അവന്റെ അഹങ്കാരം!“, തന്റെ നരച്ച താടി തടവി കൊണ്ടു സ്റ്റേഷന്‍ മാസ്റ്റെര്‍ പറയുകയുണ്ടായി.

അയാള്‍ നടത്തതിനു വേഗത കൂട്ടി, വീട്ടില്‍ വേഗം എത്തിയിട്ടു ഒന്നും ചെയ്യാനില്ലെങ്കിലും. ഭാര്യയേയും മക്കളേയും അവളുടെ വീട്ടില്‍ ആക്കിയിട്ട് ഒരു മാസം ആവാറായി.അയാള്‍ വീട്ടിലെത്തി വിളക്കു കത്തിച്ചു. വാതിലില്‍ അവര്‍ വീണ്ടും കടലാസ് പതിച്ചിരിയ്ക്കുന്നു.ഒരാഴ്ച മുന്‍പു പതിച്ചതും അതേ പോലെ അവിടെയുണ്ടു. അയാള്‍ക്കു ചിരി വന്നു. ഇന്നു തീരെ വിശപ്പില്ല. അയാള്‍ പുതച്ചു കിടക്കാന്‍ തുടങ്ങി. എന്തൊരു തണുപ്പ്.അപ്പുറത്തു ആള്‍ത്താമസമില്ലാത്ത വീട്ടില്‍ വെളിച്ചം കാണാം.ഈയിടെയായി അവിടെ ആരൊക്കെയോ വരുന്നു, എന്തൊക്കെയോ ക്ലാസ്സുകള്‍ നടക്കുന്നു, നോട്ടീസുകള്‍ വിതരണം ചെയ്യുന്നു. അയാള്‍ക്ക് അതിലൊന്നും വലിയ താല്‍‌പര്യം തോന്നിയില്ല. അയാള്‍ വിളക്കണച്ചു.

വീണ്ടും അയാള്‍ നടക്കുകയാണു. എന്നത്തേയും പോലെ ഇന്നും. പരുത്തിപാടങ്ങള്‍ക്ക് നടുവിലൂടെ. ഇന്നു ഒരുപാടു ക്ഷീണം തോന്നുന്നു. ‍അയാള്‍ റോഡു വക്കിലുള്ള ആല്‍ മരത്തിന്റെ ചോട്ടിലിരുന്നു. റോഡിന്റെ മറുവശത്തു ബഹുരാഷ്ട്ര വിത്തു കമ്പനിയുടെ മറാഠിയിലുള്ള ഭീമന്‍ പരസ്യം കാണാം. “ഇരട്ടി ഉത്പാദനം. കീടനാശിനികള്‍ക്കു പൈസ കളയുകയേ വേണ്ട”. ഇരട്ടി ഉത്പാദനം!... അയാള്‍ക്കു വീണ്ടും ചിരി വന്നു.

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മഴ പെയ്യുന്നുണ്ടായിരുന്നു. ദൂരെ സ്റ്റേഷനിലെ ട്യുബ്-ലൈറ്റ് കാണാം. അയാള്‍ തിരിഞ്ഞു നോക്കി. ഇന്നും അവന്‍ നേരത്തേയാണു. അയാള്‍ നടത്തതിന്റെ വേഗത കൂട്ടാന്‍ നോക്കിയില്ല. മെല്ലെ നടന്നു. പിന്നെ എന്തൊ ആലൊചിച്ചിട്ടെന്ന പോലെ തിരിഞ്ഞു നടന്നു. പാളത്തിലൂടെ... മെല്ലെ, ചിരിച്ചു കൊണ്ടു. നിര്‍ത്താതെ ഹോണുകള്‍ മുഴങ്ങി. ബ്രെയ്കിന്റെ ശബ്ദം... മരത്തില്‍ ചേക്കേറിയിരുന്ന കാക്കള്‍ വലിയ ശബ്ദത്തേടെ പറന്നകന്നു.‍ അന്നാദ്യമായി ദിവാന്‍‌ഖാവടിയില്‍ രാജധാനി നിന്നു.

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വാല്‍കഷ്ണം: ഐറ്റിയുടേയും സ്മാര്‍ട്ട്-സിറ്റിയുടേയും പിന്നാലെ പായുന്നവര്‍ ഒന്നു നിന്നു തിരിഞ്ഞു നോക്കിയിരുന്നെങ്കില്‍....

നിങ്ങള്‍‌ ആദ്യം ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്യൂ...

... എന്നാല്‍ ഞങ്ങള്‍‌ സഹായിക്കാം!

ഇന്നലെ എഷ്യാനെറ്റ് ന്യൂസിലെ പ്രധാനപ്പെട്ട ചര്‍ച്ചാവിഷയം ഇതായിരുന്നു... ഇടുക്കിയിലെ കര്‍ഷകര്‍ക്കു പ്രത്യേക പാക്കേജ് ഇല്ല. കാരണം ആത്മഹത്യാ കണക്കെടുപ്പില്‍ വയനാടും പാലക്കാടും ഇടുക്കിയെ ബഹുദൂരം പിന്നില്ലാക്കി മുന്നേറിയിരിക്കുന്നു!. ഇടുക്കിയിലെ കര്‍ഷകര്‍ക്കു മത്സരബുദ്ധി തീരെയില്ലേ??. നമ്മുടെ “അതിവേഗം ബഹുദൂരം” മുദ്രാവാക്യം ഒന്നും വയനാട്ടില്‍ എത്തിയതു പോലെ അവിടെ എത്തിയില്ലേ??.

കഷ്ടം തന്നെ നമ്മുടെ “ഭരണാധികാരികളുടെ” കാര്യം!. പാവം കര്‍ഷകന്റെ പ്രശ്നം മനസ്സിലാക്കി അവനെ രക്ഷിക്കാന്‍ ഒരു വസ്തുവും ചെയ്യുന്നില്ല. പകരം ആ ചര്‍ച്ചയില്‍ ഒരാള്‍ പറഞ്ഞതു പോലെ, ഒരു മൊബൈല്‍ കമ്പനി കണക്കെ ഒരു സ്കീമും ആയി വന്നിരിക്കുന്നു- നിങ്ങള്‍ ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്യൂ, എന്നാല്‍ ഞങ്ങള്‍‌ കടം എഴുതി തള്ളാം!!. ഇതില്‍ പരം ഒരു കഴിവുകേടും പാപ്പരത്തവും വേറെയുണ്ടൊ?

കടത്തില്‍ മുങ്ങിയ ഒരു പാവം കര്‍ഷകന്റെ സ്ഥിതി ഒന്നു ആലോചിച്ചു നോക്കൂ... സ്വന്തം ഭാര്യയുടെയും മക്കളുടേയും മുഖത്തു നോക്കാന്‍ അയാള്‍ക്കു കഴിയുമോ?. “നിങ്ങളൊന്നു ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്തിരുന്നെങ്കില്‍‍ ഞങ്ങളെങ്കിലും രക്ഷപ്പെടുമാ‍യിരുന്നില്ലേ?”- ഇതു അവരുടെ വായില്‍ നിന്നു കേള്‍ക്കുന്നതും കാത്തു കഴിയുന്നതിലും ഭേദം അവനു ആത്മഹത്യ തന്നെ.

പാവം നമ്മുടെ കേരളാ പോലീസ്!

പോലീസിനെ കണ്ടു പേടിച്ചോടി കിണറ്റിലും കുളത്തിലും വീണു ഒരൊരുത്തന്‍‌മാര്‍ ചാവുന്നതില്‍ പാവം പോലീസെന്തു പിഴച്ചു?. ഹാര്‍ട്ട്-അറ്റാക്ക് വന്നു ആരെങ്കിലും മരിച്ചാല്‍ അതും കസ്റ്റ്ഡി മരണം...പോരാത്തതിനു ഹര്‍ത്താലും!. ഇനി മുതല്‍ ഒരു മൈക്കു വെച്ചു വിളംബരം ചെയ്തിട്ടു വേണം പോലീസിനു സഞ്ചരിക്കാന്‍‌... ഇതാ മൂന്നു പോലീസുകാര്‍ ഒരു ജീപ്പില്‍ ഈ വഴി വരുന്നു, ചീട്ടു കളിക്കാരും വാറ്റുകാരും ഒരല്പം സമയത്തേക്കു മാറി നില്‍ക്കാന്‍‌ വിനീതമായി അപേക്ഷിച്ചു കൊള്ളുന്നു... പാവം നമ്മുടെ കേരളാ പോലീസിന്റെ ഒരു ഗതികേടേ!
ഇതിനിടെ കിണറ്റില്‍ ചാടിയ ഒരു “കള്ളനെ” രക്ഷിയ്ക്കാന്‍ അവന്റെ കൂടെ ചാടി അവനെ പൊക്കിയെടുത്ത ഒരു പാവം പോലീസുകാരന്റെ കഥയൊന്നും ആരും അറിയുന്നില്ല...

An Absolute Beauty!

What do you call a game of chess that ends with the following board-position....?

...an absolute beauty!. The best short chess game ever.
http://www.worldchessacademy.com/Lasker-Thomas.htm

This really inspired me, enlightened me, awakened me... I don't know how!

PICK-POCKET

In Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime and punishment, the protagonist proclaims that the "superior human beings", the "geniuses" can act outside the boundaries of moral life. And that whatever "crime" that they do ultimately leads to the upliftment/benefit of the society. The protagonist, Raskolnikov goes ahead and commits a crime, a twin murder, to feel true to himself and his ideology.

Robert Bresson's fantastic movie, "Pick Pocket" is said to be inspired by Dostoyevsky's novel. But here the protagonist Michel indulges in pick-pocketing rather than murder. Raskolnikov does one crime and then spends rest of his life(till he is caught) contemplating, suffering from what he did. Here Michel grows in confidence, learns new skills, and finds himself part of a brilliant team of skilled pick-pocketer's, who run amok among the streets and Metros of Paris. But soon their luck runs out.

The movie is one of the most beautiful that I came along among the ones screened by Collective Chaos. The guilt, the self-destructiveness, the inferiority complex which he tries to mask with his superior person theory, all are portrayed so beautifully. And like Crime and Punishment's Porfiry, there is a police inspector here too who suspects Michel, and uses psychological methods to make him confess, take his just punishment and get reformed. And like Sonia there is the beautiful Jeanne, who is fond of Michel, and the love and wanting for whom is Michel's final suffering and his redemption.

The skills of Michel an his friends are shot so beautifully. There is the scene in which they get into a train, keep picking passengers, exchanging the wallets between them, and finally replacing the empty purses to where they belonged. While returning home, in a crowded bus, I also got that tickling sensation, trembling of hands... I controlled!. It was that kind of a movie, a joy to watch. I should confess here that reading Crime and Punishment was hardly a joyous experience, it was full of tension. I got ill after I completed the novel... :)

Robert Breeson says,"My movie is born first in my head, dies on paper; is resuscitated by the living persons and real objects I use, which are killed on film but, placed in a certain order and projected onto a screen, come to life again like flowers on water". Another must watch.

AR-GEN-TINA

I felt so tired after the Argentina match. So tired that I couldn't enjoy much of the Holland-Ivory game, eventhough it was a very lively one. Like you don't want to watch anything else after seeing a great movie. You just want to go home, lie down and relive what you have just seen... breathtaking, thrilling exhibition of the most beautiful game in the planet.
What is thrill?... thrill is when Esteban Cambiasso finds the top left corner after a string of two dozen precision perfect passes, thrill is when you see Lionel Messi on the touchline 170 minutes into a world-cup which is supposed to be his, thrill is when you see Diego Maradona shouting, screaming, waving in the stands.... also, thrill is when a red car comes out of the pit, put some scorching sectors and leave a hapless Kimi behind. But, is thrill when a Lara takes 200 balls for a century or a Dravid stands behind quietly waiting for a wicket to fall??... no way. Cricket will never be anywhere near Football, when it comes to the thrills,spills and ecstasy that one watches a game for.

Once upon a time there was a country...

... on the banks of Danube called Yugoslavia, a leader called Marshal Tito who showed the world how to remain non-aligned at the height of cold war, and a director called Emir Kusturica who gave us a wonderful movie called "Underground" - winner Palm D'Or, Cannes 95.

Collective Chaos promised to bring Cannes to Bangalore last weekend, showing five of the previous Cannes winners. For an annual subscription fee of just Rs 400 (they promise to screen atleast 100 movies a year), it can't come any cheaper than this. But with cranky seats atop Sona Towers (off Cunningham Road) and (although they promise to promptly throw out anybody found using a mobile inside the hall) with some female patrons hell-bent on "checking" time on their flashy mobiles every other minute, it wasn't such an enjoyable experience watching movies. I watched three out of the five shown. And while Kagemusha and Taste of Cherry were descent, it was Underground which really made my weekend.

Underground spans the entire life-span of Yugoslavia. Starting from the Nazi bombing of Belgrade, to the comrades fighting from underground, through the days of Tito and finally the break-up and bloodshed of 1990's. Story of two friends and their passion for one woman, story of a group of people who are put in a cellar underground to avoid Nazi bomb's, and who even 20 years after the war was over, were still made to believe that there was a war happening outside and the Germans were still in power, and weren't allowed to come out. Exhilarating comedy and satire, a brilliant sound track, passionate and sexually explicit at times... this is one gem of a movie you can't miss.

Just last week, the last remains of the erstwhile Yugoslavia decided to split again. After the worst blood-bath that Europe had seen since WW2, there are now seven different chunks, one for each ethnic group. And like the chunks from the erstwhile Soviet Union, they are all queuing up infront of the NATO HQ in Brussels. All that will remain will be memories of Tito and NAM and ofcourse, the movies of great men like Emir Kusturica.

JALEEEEEEL!

So many beautiful things happened in this election ...like Murali and "DICK" getting wiped out, opportunists like Pilla and Jacob being blown away, BJP's dreams remaining "unfulfilled".... but for the most beautiful moment of this entire election festival we should thank one man ... KT Jaleel.

Did anyone think our dear "puli" could lose in Kuttipuram? . Remember the posters at the height of the sex-scandal, "Jana manasukkalil ninnu ee "puliye" purathakkan oru shakthikkum kazhiyilla"... phew!. This is a double whammy for Kunjali, he has probably spent a considerable amount of the fortune he amassed in this election.

Jaleel made the impossible possible. He proved that no amount of money and power can alter people's desire. He has probably changed the election pattern of Malappuram forever. Victory... and that too with a margin of more than 8000 votes, in a constitueny which hasn't elected anyone other than a League candidate from its inception! un-thinkable...

League probably can only go down from here. They have only themselves to blame. Jaleel and Muneer was the future onto which it should have grown. Instead, they sacrificed Muneer, threw out Jaleel and provided CPM with a golden "ladder" into the Muslim heartland.

I guess, this is probably "the moment" that CPM was waiting all these years. A significant reason why CPM couldn't assert itself as much in Kerala as compared to Bengal is the lack of support it has among the religious minorities. In Bengal, minorities vote en-masse to left. But with the Jaleel -factor (and Raheem factor, and yes the PDP -factor too) this can change and the magic number of 50% vote share is not so far. Then we will have a very different coalition landscape in Kerala. The CPM then can, and will try to do away with all the "eerkil" parties (they tried to some extent this time too).

May be I am dreaming so far... the next time UDF and League will storm back to power like it happens every time here. But that doesn't take the shine out of Jaleel. Atleast for now, three cheers for a job well done!. Ivanaanu PuPuli!!.

MUNICH

Home Is Everything!.
If tomorrow someone comes up to you and tells you that the home you are living, where your parents lived and their parents lived, was (supposed to be )promised to him and his fellow followers some ten centuries ago. And that he has the support of the entire "international community". Will you just pack up and leave?. I won't. I will fight till my death, I'll kill if need be... because home is everything.

Finally Munich got released in Bangalore. I gave Mr. Balram the ditch, but since I couldn't ditch Schumi and the European GP, morning show was the only option. So early morning wake-up (on a sunday morning!), empty stomach, three long hours... if this was Aviator I would have happily slept through. But this was Spielberg not Scorcese, the master in keeping one's interest alive all through the movie.

It was debated whether this was a pro-Jewish or a pro-Palestinian movie. I found it being neither. Although the entire narration is through a set of Jewish eyes, Avner (Eric Bana) is not one of those radical Jews. He is more concerned about his wife, her imminent delivery and then the child, than the job at hand of eliminating the eleven Palestinians which the Mossad think were related to the Munich massacre. And again it is the Palestinian view which rings out more loudly when Ali says, "Home is everything" and that "My father didn't gas any Jews".

I won't divulge any further into the story. Eric Bana is superb as the confused and distressed Avner. After Hector of Troy another memorable tragic hero role. The movie has some awesome scenes. Like the shot were blood slowly spreads over milk spilled on the floor. And the flashback shots of Munich massacre through Avner's eyes. Those will rank among some of Spielberg's finest... remember the tank gun slowly going up aiming the tower in Saving Private Ryan, or Richard Attenborough being timed making "hinges" in a Nazi work-shop in Schindler's List.

There is no climax as such. It ends with the confused state that Avner finds himself in. From the hunter to the one being hunted. To find that, in places of all the seemingly liberal Palestinians he assassinated the more radical replacements taking charge. To some extent it is the same predicament as that of Israel. From having to deal with someone like Arafat and PLO, they now have to deal with a Hamas. Today's Hindu(May 8) had a news piece on the eviction of illegal Jewish settlers from Hebron. It says, "Hebron, a city holy to Jews and Muslims, is home to about 160,000 Palestinians and some 500 ultranationalist Jewish settlers who live in heavily fortified enclaves". How much security can save 500 from 160,000?. How far can a policy of confrontation and brutal assassinations take a country?.

RASATANTRAM

Vishaya dharidryam... even Sathyan Anthikkad is facing that. All through the movie I sat there confused, trying to make out what our dear Sathyan Anthikkad was trying to convey through this movie. And finally after three long hours I am still confused. Was it the plight of old parents, old age homes... but then you already had all this in Manasinakkare. Or was it the old cliched, money vs ideology, rich son vs poor son (who has the dad in his side)?? Other than that I can't think of any, what was it?. So many characters so many stories... aakepade oru aviyal paruvam.

And all through there was this un-mistakable smell of a Tanmatra. After all, if you look carefully there is a TANMATRA hiding in RASATANTRAM --> RAS-ATANTRAM --> SAR -(ithu)-TANMATRA (thanne)!! :). There is this scene of a son's devotion to his father, of Mohanlal giving an oil massage to Bharath Gopi. Haven't we seen the same with Nedumudi. Well, after his successful(?) achar and restaurant business is Lal venturing into Thailam business??. Definitely a conscious attempt to gain mileage from Tanmatra's success. Making Lal give all those lofty statements about anything and everything around, from taking a dig at Malayali's penchant for building posh mansions, to Newton's first law... although he does it remarkably well, Laline oru upadeshi aakan aano bhavam?. Mohalalinte oru gathikedu nokkane... once a character clicks, an umpteen number of clones will be made, till each and every one is totaly fed up and disgusted. I am not saying Rasatantram will click, but another one like this... it is done. Why can't our poor Lal get the kind of characters that Big B is so easily getting in Bollywood, a khakee, a sarkar... Mammukka is so lucky in this regard.

Coming back to the movie, there are these umpteen number of characters. Aarkku vendi enthinu vendi??. Some totally useless. Why do you have to waste a Jagathi , a Mukesh and even a TG Ravi (only in two frames!), for completely useless and un-important characters? Sad to say for the first time ever I got irritated with a Jagathi character!. Again sad to say, with due respect, Innocentinteyum Mammukoyayudeyum phalitham onnum pande pole phalikkunilla !!

Given all these, Rasathantram is still a very much watchable movie. Lal does well (the comic timing is slowly coming back?), so too is Bharath Gopi, there is a nice "rasathantram" between them. Meera is as beautiful and as refreshing as always. There are some very nice songs. And Thodupuzha and surroundings make a beautiful background for the story. But Sathyan Anthikkad and Mohanlal after so many years- expected a lot and got very little in return- so disappointing.

Bangaradha Manushya!

When a big tree falls, the earth below shakes... that's how Rajiv vindicated the anti-Sikh riots after Indira's death. Well, Bangalore really got a shake on its head after Dr Rajkumar's death. And unfortunately for most of us he chose the wrong day to pass away. Couple of days before Vishu (and Easter too ), when so many mallus, who had booked all the tickets available so much in advance, eagerly awaits a passage to Kerala.

I had also managed a ticket. A 2-30PM bus on Thursday, to Palghat, from there I could catch a bus to EKM and reach my Valiachan's home just in time for Vishu kani. But from morning itself we were seeing the lathi-charges and tear-gas shells in TV, and buses being burnt outside. So I had more or less lost hope. Still as a last throw of dice we called the control room in Majestic, and enquired whether the inter-state buses are plying or not. The voice at the other end was very re-assuring. He said there was no problem whatsoever, and buses were running as usual.

So then I packed up quickly, left from my home in Airport road. Not a single city bus (BMTC) was on the road. Again called the control room, he said since the crowd had burned a few BMTC buses, they had stopped service in some routes, but KSRTC buses were still running. Alas, I should have interpreted this as since the crowds haven't yet torched a KSRTC bus, they were still running!!

Thankfully I could find an Auto. Considering the situation I expected him to ask for twice the rate, or at least one and a half. He didn't ask anything, just put on the meter. I thought, at the time of getting down I am in for a long quarrel with this guy. How I hate the Bangalore autowallah's. Nothing short of extortion most of the times, and to compare them with their counter-parts in Calicut... oh!! But I always had trouble with the younger ones, the old guys were good everywhere, and this man was also pretty old.

So we continued our journey. There wasn't much trouble in Airport road. I picked up my friend near Intel, she had to go Erode. And we carried on. The first signs of trouble started near Richmond circle. The police had blocked that road, so we took a left turn. From then on we went through the roads and places which I had never seen before, left right, I felt we were going circles, but there was no other way , each and every road was either blocked or had tyres burning in the middle. And all the while our old driver was telling, rather apologetically, how great a person Rajkumar was, and there was no one like him, and such things will never happen again. We agreed. I was wondering what will happen in Chennai, when (god forbid) Rajani dies. Considering the ingenuity and audacity of Rajani fans, nothing short of burning a train will satiate them... may be since this is the age of low cost airlines, an Air Deccan flight will make an obvious and ideal choice!.

At least once we were so close to the mobs. They threw obscenities at us but thankfully no stones. To make matters worse this guy even didn't have a Rajkumar photo on his auto!. But he still carried on. What would have happened if he had left us there... a mallu and a tamil among a frenzied mob of kannadigas!... May be I am getting far fetched ideas. But later in the afternoon when we saw in TV, the way they lynched ( a fellow Kannadiga) policeman, anything could have happened.

Finally we reached the bus stand. We got down, he asked us not to speak in Tamil, speak in Hindi or English only!. And he would only take the meter charge... Dr Raj's most famous movie, as I am told, is Bangaradha Manushya (The Golden Man or a man with a golden heart), here we were seeing another true Bangaharadha Manushya!. We thanked him and went to the Bus stand. And (as expected!) not a single bus in sight. All buses till 6PM were cancelled. I thought about the not-so-bangharadha manushya of control room, who said everything was normal. May be he was right then. We went to the railway station to see whether she could manage any train to Salem or Coimbatore ( I had already dropped plans of going home). But seeing the queue there we decided to return back home. There were some autos in the station, and this time we were not so lucky. They asked for 3x charges, and finally after some bargaining we brought it to 2x. Although we saw mobs and lots of police, the return journey was much less eventful, and reached back from where we started exactly after two and half hours.

Back home, there was a complete cable black-out also. Only Kannada channels and some news channels were shown. I sat down and watched Dr Raj's old movies. Since it was a mythological movie (Bhakta Kalidasa or something of that sort), there was no issue in following. Brought back memories of Prem Nasir!. Rajkumar has this serenity and sincerity with his acting, and a beautiful dialogue presentation, something that you can associate with a Sathyan probably. Can't believe such an actor's fans could be like this- but then it was very clear, there were more anti-socials than fan's out there. As someone said on TV, all the frustrated bangalore youth were having a field day!!.

Plagiarism and Malayalam Cinema

The other day I was watching Hitchcock's "Vertigo", and somewhere in the middle it started striking me that I have seen these scenes before. Where was it?. Towards the end it became very clear where it was, "Mannar Mathai Speaking"!!. Till now, I thought that Priyadarshan was the only director who maintains a very good collection of English movies. Now Sidiq-lal!. Copy "Vertigo" and call it "Mannar Mathai"!!... what a ripper.

The pioneer of this art has always been Priyadarshan. All the way, starting from Boeing Boeing(Boeing Boeing), Talavattom(One flew over the cuckoo's nest) to Nirnayam(The Fugitive), Kakkakuyil(loosely A Fish Called Wanda) and to his latest Malamaal Weekly. Over time, I believe he should get an honorary Oscar, for having watched and copied so many Hollywood movies. And others also chipped in... Ayushkalam(The Ghost), Life is beautiful(Dead poet's society), etc

I am not saying we should not copy good movies from elsewhere or get "inspired" by them. Infact, that is a good thing to do, bringing world cinema to Malayalam. But taking a psychological thriller like Vertigo and distorting it and making it a sub-plot of a comedy movie is simply un-acceptable. "Mannar Mathai" is a nothing movie, just a comedy flick, achieving nothing what Hitchcock wanted to convey and portray with the original. Maybe the producer was pushing Sidiq-lal too hard for a sequel to Ramji Rao, and they happened to rent the Vertigo CD, and got "inspired"!

Again Talavattam... scene by scene lift, but when it came to the scenes which mattered, the ripper destroyed it altogether. Where Jack Nicholson's character is put into a comma for standing up against the asylum authorities (for attacking the nurse who mentally demoralises and forces his friend to commit suicide), Mohanlal is put into a comma for having loved the doctor's daughter!!, how unimaginative... And "One flew..." ends with full of hope, "the Chief" who has been silent all this time, gets up, smothers Jack Nicholson (and does this with a smile in his face... yes a smile) shatters the hospital window and runs away to freedom, while Talavattam ends so hopelessly, we see Kartika becoming insane ...how dumb!. Still we remember Talavattam as one of the very good movies in malayalam. That's just the genius of a Lal and a Nedumudi. The silliness of the plot is very evident in the way Kyun KI bombed in the box_office last year.

So cutting short, moral of the story... Please do copy and get "inspired", if you can't be creative. But then please do it the Ram Gopal Varma way, acknowledge, copy to the full, and do not give us half baked "Indianised" versions.

The Motorcycle Diaries

"The plan: to travel 8 thousand kms in 4 months. The method: improvisation. The goal: to explore a continent that we had only known in books. The equipment: La poderosa (the mighty one), an aged, leaky '39 Norton 500. The pilot: Alberto Granado, 29 years old and bio-chemist, self proclaimed "wandering scientist". The pilot's dream: to finish the trip on his 30th birthday. The co-pilot: Me, Ernesto de la serna el fuser, 23 years old"

Thus starts "The Motorcycle Diaries"... a story of 1950's , about a journey of two friends around South America. As the caption says "this is not the tale of heroic feats, It's about two lives running parallel for a while, with common aspirations and similar dreams."

I had heard about this movie long before. Finally, it took two DVD's (the first one got stuck in the middle, so I have to go and buy another one), two days, and two screenings (you have to watch it without the sub-titles again) to complete this. And it was worth all that. Granado's and Ernesto's travel is captured so brilliantly. One travels for his ideology, to explore the raw face of South America... and the other with a desire to f*** in every country, and if possible every town, in South America!!.

All through the movie, there is this Spanish guitar which continuously plays in the background and then ofcourse, there is the language, Spanish... the most romantic, or should I call it the most sensual, of all the languages in the world. I tried to learn Spanish online once, but the only thing that I could understand was that here(like in Hindi) each and every object is either a male or female. And the male ones will start with an El and the female ones with a La, so we have El Nino and La Nina and La Liga (the Spanish football league). And this El and La is what probably makes it the most sensual... the language of the nerudas and the marquezs.

And the movie progresses along what Ernesto sees around him, the natives, the disparities, the struggles... and the thoughts he has for them, which he writes in his letters to his mother during the journey. Like the one after he says goodbye to his girlfriend,

"On the boat I heard the moist slap of bare feet

and foresaw faces dark with hunger.

My heart was a pendulam

between her and the street.

I don't know what strength broke me

free from her eyes, loose from her arms.
She remained clouded by tears

her anguish hidden by the rain"

and when they cross to Chile at the tip of the continent, on a boat shrouded with mist,

"Dear mom what do we leave behind

when we cross a frontier?
Each moment seems split into two

Melancholy of what is left behind and

the excitement of entering a new land"

"The mighty one" finally breaks down in Chile. So they will have to cover all of Chile in a Truck, scale the Andes on foot and finally cross the Amazon on a raft. The film's final scenes are the most poetic and poignant. They finally reach the leper colony in the middle of Amazon, and Ernesto will swim one night across the river, to celebrate his birthday with the people, who are waiting for their death in the segregated island. Finally they reach Guajira in Venezuela, the northern tip of the continent. Granado will stay here and work as a bio-chemist and Ernesto will fly back to Buenos Aires to complete his degree in medicine, promising each other that they will meet soon.

"Motorcycle Diaries" ends with the following lines...

"It took eight years for ernesto and alberto to meet again. In 1960, Granado was invited to live and work in Cuba. The invitation came from his old friend Fuser, now "Commandante" Ernesto Che Guevera. One of the most prominent and inspiring leaders of the Cuban revolution. Che went onto fight for his ideals in the Congo and Bolivia, where he was captured and with the support of the CIA, murdered in October,1967. Forever faithful to his friend Fuser, Granado remained in Cuba, where he founded the school of medicine of Santiago. He lives in Havana, with his wife children and grand children"

Ever wondered how it is possible to feel nostalgic for a world one never knew... watch "Motorcycle diaries'

dIEGO

Was Diego my first idol?...nop. Like most people of my generation I had started loving Mohanlal from the time I understood movies. So then, when did I start loving Diego?. It must be during 1990, the ITALIA90, the World Cup. Back then, I was too young to stay awake all night and watch the game. But then I used to eagerly wait for the sports page in Mathrubhumi. And those days Mathrubhumi was a much better paper, and there was a lot of coverage for football too. The days when Kerala Police was winning all the cups in the town, the days of Sathyan, Vijayan, Papachan, Sharaf Ali, and Kurikesh Mathew.

I still remember seeing (or may be I saw it many years later) Maradona Magic overcoming Brazil and that sem-final with Italy which went to shoot-out. And then Argentina lost so controversially in the final. And nobody heard anything good about Maradona for a long time. Drugs,scandals,shooting journalists... that was all Maradona did for the next many years.

And then came USA94, my first complete world cup. And Argentina came to it as one of the favourites (like they have been doing for the last few world cups, only to crash-out early). And there was Maradona too, brought back from the wilderness, to re-create that magic. The first match against Greece will be remembered not for the powerful left foot volley that was Argentina's fifth goal, but the way he ran against a camera on the sideline and spit at it...Why did you have to do that Diego? Of all the people who were watching, there were thousand times more people who loved you than the ones who hated you.

And then there was that classic against Nigeria. I remember I had exams the next day, still I stayed awake all night to see Claudio Kaniggia curling one in from the touchline to seal an Argentine win. And the next day morning I went to school. Mavoor lies so close to Manjeri, Malappuram... Kerala's football heartland. And so there were so many die-hard fans around. I reached school, and we had this blackboard near the staircase where important notices were written. And the first thing I noticed was, somebody had written, "Maradona marunnadichu pidiyilayi"!.

That was the end of Diego Armando Maradona's international career. Never to don the colours of Argentina again, never to delight us with that amazing dribbling skills, never to promise so much and deliver so little... And then I forgot about him. Occasionally his picture used to come in the back page, that of an over-weight maradona, a divorced maradona, a hopitalized maradona... a going to die maradona.

And then, it was probably the "hand of god" that intervened again. Diego went to Cuba, came under intense treatment and dieting and slowly regained everything, most importantly his will-power. A knowledge that there is so much more he can do to the people who love him, for Argentina, for Latin America, for the world. Here he was, marching ten-thousand men along the streets of Buenos Aires, chanting slogans against Bush and imperialism,looking more trimmer than ever before.

Maradona now hosts an extremely popular talk-show, called "the night of the no:10" . Mainly dealing with his left leaning ideologies and anti-american/bush-ism. He has become so fit that many tip him to be Argentina's next coach!. In many ways, Maradona's life and Argentina's recent history are very much alike. A country trying hard to come out of a self inflicted economic disaster, would do well to have an icon like Maradona to rally its people around.

Dear Diego, I am happy to see you back. I love your ideologies and your politics. But for all the Bush battering and anti-imperialist resistance, we have Chavez (and he is doing a pretty good job in that). I want you to be back to where you belong, in the field, with the beautiful game. I want you to "play" again (as a coach ofcourse!). Dear Diego, I want you to stay alive...

(The inspiration for writing something for Maradona came, again thanks to Mathrubhumi, they had a sunday article (a few months before, which I saw only yesterday) on a group of people who set up a "Maradonian church", a religion to worship Maradona. According to the followers of the religion we are now in the year AD -47, "After Diego -47")

KANDAHAR

Kandahar is a movie about Afghanistan, the woman of Afghanistan, the veiled woman of Afghanistan. It is a film made by Mohsen Makhmalbaf, one of the best known film makers from the middle east. It was shot in 2000, when the Taliban were in power and were busy blasting off the Bamiyan Budhas. Before 9/11/2001, when Mr Bush probably wouldn't be able to locate Afghanistan in the map.

This is the adaptation of a real life story. Of two girls, Dyana and Nelofer, two close friends, one[Nelofer] who fled to Canada during the communist invasion and the other[Dyana] who stayed back. For nine years, Dyana and Nelofer kept in touch through letters. While Nelofer got a degree in English, Dyana trained as an economist and worked in a bank in Kabul, until she, along with all other Afghan woman, was forbidden to work when the Taliban came into power.

Some days later, Nelofer got a letter from Dyana saying that she[Nelofer] should live for both of them and that her own life in Afghanistan, under the Taliban rule, was no longer worth living. Worried that Dyana intended to kill herself, Nelofer traveled all the way from Canada to Afghan border, determined to stop Dyana. Nelofer made it all the way to Afghanistan border alone, but was unable to proceed as she was convinced by other refugees that the remainder of the journey was simply too dangerous. Forced to look for help elsewhere, she thought of Mohsen Makhmalbaf and hence this movie.

The movie is the self-narrated story of Nilofer's travel to Kandahar. On the way, we see Afghanistan as it was then and most probably a it is now. A place, if it was not for Bin-laden and Al-Qaida, wouldn't be of any interest to anybody, because, there are no consumers, no free markets and nothing to export except poppy. The movie has no other story, and only the following theme runs through...

About hope...HOPE
You know, a person needs a reason for living...
And in difficult circumstances, HOPE is that reason...
Ofcourse it is abstract,
but for the thirsty it is water,
for the hungry it is bread,
for the lonely it is love,
and... for women living under full cover,
hope is the day that she will be seeing!

The film has an awesome picturisation and a beautiful background score. The only flaw I could think was that it ends all too suddenly when you are yearning for a lot more.

There are two things which came to my mind after watching the movie, For one, Mohsen Makmalbaf is an Iranian, and like him there are a number of Iranian directors and actors who have been the favorites among film festivals all over the world. They make wonderful movies, bold movies, movies which will inspire people to voice for a change. Women in Iran are more educated , enjoy more liberties than in more economically forward Saudi or Kuwait. Iran also has one of the most powerful student's unions movements in the world. Compare this with the societies of Afghanistan, Pakistan, some parts of India... (I don't want to say some parts of Kerala, "Padam Onnu: Oru Vilapam" not withstanding).

Let us accept that Islam has a, u can say a west imposed, identity crisis. At a time, when we have to rally around societies like the Iranian one, to project them as models onto which the Afghanistans and the Pakistans should mature into, what are we doing!. We are actually cornering them, making the common man rally around the fundamentalists, and creating more fodder for Al-Qaida to grow, as if Iraq was not enough. There are surely more ways to solve a problem. Before the war everything was right in Iraq, except Saddam. And to correct one wrong all the rights were destroyed too.

And the second thing which came to my mind was, I remembered that the most beautiful eyes I ever saw was behind a burqa. It was in Hyderabad, somewhere near Hussainsagar lake. I can only wonder how much more beautiful this world will be without the veils.

SAHITYAVARAPHALAKKARAN!!

For many years now I bought "Samakalika Malayalam Varikha" just to read one particular column. Those will be three (and sometimes four) innocuous looking pages somewhere in the middle, "Sahityavaraphalam" by M Krishnan Nair. And for last many months, since he was very unwell, most of the issues won't have the column. And the men who run the magazine very well know that there are a lot of people like me who are buying their weekly just for this particular piece. So after frantically searching through the entire length of the varikha and not finding the column, you return back to the first page, only to see in some corner, in the smallest fonts available, it will be mentioned as, "due to ill-health Krishnan Nair sir hasn't been able to write Sahityavaraphalam, we hope that our esteemed readers won't mind". And from now I can't even hope to see that, for the beloved Krishnan Nair Sir will never write the varaphalam again.

Column writers are very rare in Malayalam. I can't even think of anyone!. Other than the very popular political columns that EMS and Nayanar used to write in Deshabhimani, are there any?. Even in the Indian English Literary world, the only one that comes to my mind (and I follow eagerly), although it is more of current affairs, is the Sashi Taroor column in The Hindu. So under such a backdrop, how to describe 36 years of relentless, passionate "weekly literature forecasting"... amazing, unparalleled in world literature.

Since 1969, through many a weekly, Krishnan Nair englightened malayalis all over the world. Getting them closer to the master-pieces from all around, letting them know about the giants in world literature, whose names they would never have heard if not for Sahityavaraphalam. And at the same time, demolishing all the "budding-talents" and "big-wigs" of Malayalam literature back home.

Has Krishnan Nair ever said good words about malayali authors? Ofcourse!. Changampuzha was his favourite, along with P Kunhiraman Nair. While ONV and Vayalar were relegated to just "mattoli kavikal". Also he kept wondering from time to time, how Takazhi could get such "trash" like Chemmeen to be translated and read in countries where "Anna Karenina" was read :). This uncompromising approach (and language which sometimes bordered obscenity!! Just read Feb 1st week's "Malayalam" for a dose) won him more foes than friends.

But then we the readers were not complaining at all. It was amazing how well recieved this particular column was among all cross sections of people. All those people, many (including me) who never had (and never may) get the opportunity to read all those classics, got all they need from Sahityavaraphalam. It wasn't just literary criticism, it was urging people to read those books. Even the "chodyam-uttaram" part, so hilarious most of the times, and all his experiences with all the different people of Malayalam Literature and Politics (and he knew almost all of them), were all of the highest intellectual quality and showed the humungous amount of knowledge and experience that the person had.

Nobody expects that anything remotely similar will ever happen to Malayalam again. Last two years, we lost many of the truly real greats of Malayalam Literature, OV Vijayan, S Guptan Nair, Mundoor Krishnankutty.... but M Krishnan Nair's demise will be felt the most... Simply because there isn't any replacement available... Simply because there isn't anyone with such vast amounts of knowledge... Simply becuase there isn't anyone who can shred authors to pieces with a single sentence. We'll miss you sir!




(Current Books has published an assortment of "Sahityavaraphalam's". Currently they are showing it as out of stock. Also "Malayalam varikha" is available online.

I should have written "Sahityavarabhalam" rather than "Sahityavaraphalam". One thing Krishnan Nair would never compromise was incorrect grammar and pronunciation )

Hey, go take a walk!

(a beautiful article written by our "Diversity Director". Reproduced here without his permission by a fellow "walker"...)

"He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. For every walk is a crusade!" - Henry David Thoreau

I'm a walker. I do between 20 and 30 miles a week now. Walking is therapeutic, plus there's ample enough evidence of its cardiovascular benefits. It's also a great time for vigorous mental "workouts," soul-searching and nature (and people) watching. When you're out there alone you belong exclusively to yourself, hemmed in by your memories, your imagination, the sounds of the wind, birds chirping and an occasional yapping dog.

The very act of walking is steeped in historical tradition. For centuries people walked, many for social justice. In her book, Alter Your Life, Kathleen Hall devotes an entire chapter to a few historical anecdotes of great people walking. "Buddha spent his life walking from village to village," Hall writes. "And Susan B. Anthony spent her entire life walking so that women could participate in the democratic process through voting." Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was renowned for the marches he led. And pilgrimages are part of many spiritual traditions, Hall points out.

More contemporarily, many people walk as a sign of unity, or to make political or social statements. I recall with lots of pride participating in a "walk against hate" with members of the local Muslim community months after Sept. 11. Many walk to raise funds for Juvenile Diabetes and other worthy causes. In short, walking serves many purposes.

In many ways, walking provides a perfect opportunity to observe "diversity in motion," to peer into the inner sanctums of how people experience and behave in the world we live in. Plus, walking sometimes presents unexpected opportunities to do a bit of good for others.

For example, on last Thanksgiving Day I had an incredible experience while out walking; one that I would have missed had I remained ensconced in my favorite living room chair. You see, I happened across a lost wallet that morning, one stuffed with credit cards, cash and — more important to the owner, I suspect — some irreplaceable family photos.

Later, at the neighborhood Starbucks, I had the exhilarating pleasure of calling the wallet's owner to tell him the good news. He was elated. For me that experience was sweeter than the strawberry cheesecake I had later that day. Thus, walking sometimes offers up unexpected opportunities to do good deeds.

Notice life's contrasts
Walking can bring us face to face with types of social contrasts which may cause us to bump up against our comfort zones. Recently, for example, I observed an immaculate golf course on one side of the road and, on the other, an unkempt pasture, littered with weeks-old newspapers and other trash. A construction crew had just begun work on the latter side. The "temporarily tanned" inhabitants on the golf course swung golf clubs, while the "permanently tanned" ones across the street swung picks and shovels. I was fascinated by how they seemed to render the other invisible by avoiding, unconsciously perhaps, direct eye contact with "those people" across the street. When you walk you notice the little things, the subtleties, the contrasts.

Farther down the road, more litter. Candy and cigarette wrappers and lots of empty beer bottles. Against better judgment, I picked up one of those beer bottles. I couldn't help but form a mental image of the person in whose body the contents of that bottle ended up, and how carelessly they tossed it out the window. My thoughts then shifted to the image and the lives of those who must pick up all that trash, by avocation or for reasons of sheer inconvenience.

How interesting it would be, I thought, for the trash "tossers" and trash "retrievers" to meet face to face over a cup of coffee — not beer — for a rational discussion of their bipolar roles in "litter management." When you walk, you imagine all kinds of possibilities.

With dusk quickly settling in around me, I decided to shortcut it across the nearby Target store parking lot to save a little time. But it didn't take long for me to notice the many empty shopping carts strewn across the lot, not a single one that far from nearby return stations.

I stopped, stared and touched one particular cart while asking myself what manner of man, or woman, would deny that cart its rightful place next to its brethren in the return station less than 20 yards away? And who is this person who cheated himself out of a small opportunity for exercise? When you walk you can't help but question human motives.

Heavy traffic on diversity highway
With a mile to go I came upon an intersection and a buildup of traffic where many different makes and sizes of vehicles converged. I got to thinking about how the diversity "highway" has gotten pretty cluttered as well these days, with the incredible blend of cultures, generations, religions, languages and ethnicities; a sometimes combustible mix leading to a diversity "fender bender" or bout of "road rage" every now and then.

The closer I got to the intersection, my imagination put me in the front seat next to the nameless occupants in those cars, trucks, SUVs and motorcycles. Who are they and what's on their experience "odometers," I wondered. What's locked away in their trunk that's valuable, untapped and underutilized? When you walk, your imagination takes you all over the place.

So the next time someone tells you to "go take a hike," hey, take them up on it. There are no traffic jams. Elevators, escalators and stairwells are nonexistent. A bottle of water will suffice for gasoline at 2 bucks a gallon. You'll think about and notice things you've never thought about or noticed before. Your diversity IQ will expand. And you just may stumble across an opportunity to do something extra special for someone during one of those treks.

And in the end, your family physician, along with those in your organization charged with monitoring benefit costs, will be elated with the new and healthier you. Oops, there it is in preceding line ... the most compelling reason yet supporting the business case for taking a stroll!

Now, go take a hike!

MAVOOR: Oru Deshathinte Kadha - Vol. III

Mavoorinte Bhaavi?:

So the giant chimneys no longer spit toxic gases, the sirens will no longer be heard thrice a day and Mavoor will never see those long serpentine queues of bamboo laden trucks. Maybe we all managed to prevent a disaster from happening, another tragedy in the lines of Union Carbide and Bhopal. And for now the waters of Chaliyar won't be black...

But may be we should spare a thought for the more than 3000 people who lost their jobs, and for their families too. Many who spent their entire lives in Mavoor, and many who didn't have a skill set to fetch them jobs outside of Grasim. All those families who had no places to go when they were evicted from their quarters. All those shops and merchandise which mushroomed and survived along with Grasim. Well, many survived ,many didn't. The situation of some people are grim, especially those who were attached to the school, those who were conveniently forgotten by the unions during the compensation talks. But people will find a way to survive. After all these years, when I went back to Mavoor, I was quite surprised to see that most of the shops were still open and functioning as were most of the buses. As Ian Malcom famously says in "Jurassic Park" , "life finds a way (to survive)".

Discussions are going around on what will be Mavoor's future. What to do with those vast swathes of industrial wasteland. Unfortunately, I don't see anything happening in near future. Mavoor can only be useful for those heavily polluting , water guzzling behemoths. And given the experience of Grasim, people will not prefer them anymore. And to expect that IT/ITES concerns can be accommodated here is nothing short of day-dreaming, Mavoor (and for that matter Calicut) is no Kochi!. Let me hope that I'll be proved wrong, and something good will indeed come to Mavoor soon. But all those newcomers will now have to start it all over again, for some of the old inhabitants of Mavoor have slowly but surely made their way back ... SNAKES!

(the end...) PART I, PART II, Recent Photos


Anubandam: Thanks for all the comments. It is a great feeling to know that so many people still remember and love Mavoor.

MAVOOR: Oru Deshathinte Kadha - Vol. II

The Bad Times:

When Mavoor GRASIM planned to start its operations, the government had agreed to provide it with all the necessary raw-materials. This was done considering all the employments and revenue the company will help generate. But the employment generation came to a stand-still towards the end of 60's. While the demand for raw-materials was ever growing up, so much so that large tracks of virgin forests in Nilambur and elsewhere were laid to waste. The government could no longer satisfy the demand, forcing the company to export most of the stuff from neighbouring states. The company tried to counter the increased costs by passing over them to the employees. People were now getting no hikes nor bonuses for years on end. Those who joined with much better salaries compared to elsewhere, found that their pays just stagnated. The labour unrest arising out of this and the mounting costs made the company to close down the operations for the first time in 1985.

And so it remained closed for a long time. These were the hardest of times!. Some wise men managed to move to Gulf and escaped forever. But for some there was no future outside Grasim. The next three years saw numerous suicides in Mavoor. And finally when the Nayanar Ministry came in, the government went down on its knees to appease the Birlas, promising more and more concessions, and finally managed to re-open the company in 1988.

But by then things had changed irrevocably. Protests were growing from all around on the pollution caused. But the company went ahead, blatantly refusing to accept any pollution control norms. I remember my Dad saying this about the Effluent(waste) water treatment. Whatever, pollution control system that was in place was used only during the summer months, when there was little water in the river, and so it wasn't easy to hide the pollutants. During the monsoons, when Chaliyar roars down, nothing was done and the effluents were just flushed down, hoping that nobody will notice them by the time they reached the sea.

Also, pulp production here was becoming more and more costlier. Lack of Bamboo meant the company had to use many other varieties of wood (like eucalyptus), which inturn affected the quality of the pulp produced. By then, Grasim had another similar factory in Harihar near Bangalore, where they were able to get raw-materials much cheaper. Also, falling prices globally meant that it was more easy and economical for Grasim to export pulp rather than produce here. But still the Mavoor unit was not in red, it was making handsome profits, mainly because of CS2 (Carbon -disulphide) and Ammonia plants (which were also the killer ones as far as pollution was concerned) and because the employees were all so underpaid. But the final blow to Mavoor Grasim, came with the death of Aditya Vikram Birla in 1995.

His son, Kumar Mangalam take over. Like any other Harvard/Stanford MBA, the first thing he did was to put some of the latest management principles into practice. Nothing more than CK Prahlad's memo to "concentrate on one's core competencies" . Many businesses were sold off and dismantled. And the first one on the chopping block was the "problem-ridden" and "obsolete" Mavoor unit. Many people still believe that if AV Birla was there, the factory would still be up and running in Mavoor.

The late 1990's saw large scale agitations from the environmentalist groups, and so the demand for more investment in pollution control systems. And GRASIM wasn't willing to invest even a penny more. The end when it came, came very swiftly. In 1999, the Birlas informed BSE that they were winding up operations in Mavoor. The reasons given: Inability of the government in providing the promised quantity and quality of raw-materials and the availability of quality pulp at more cheaper rates in the international market. Thus came the end of an era, with more than 3000 employees losing their job and left to fend for themselves.

Many people still believe that it was a victory of the environmental groups, that it was due to their agitations that Mavoor Grasim finally closed down. No way... If Grasim could make substantial profits it would still be running there, grossly violating all pollution norms, and the industry starved governments of Kerala would have just kept their eyes shut. It was just a case of a corporate focusing into areas which gave it much higher profits, ruthlessly leaving behind stuff that it felt were no longer viable, no longer its "core -competence"...

(go to ... PART I, PART III )

MAVOOR: Oru Deshathinte Kadha - Vol. I

This is version One-Dot-One, added some essential links. As always whenever you read something that you have written long back, you always get the feeling that "how can I write so stupidly". But then I didn't make any modifications to the original post.

Thudakkam:

Rewind back to the end of 1950's... a time when the world saw that communism can indeed come to power through ballot. A great visionary became the chief minister and some path breaking decisions were made. One among them was to invite some of India's corporate big-wigs to invest in Kerala. And, perhaps the only time in the history of "united" Kerala, some of them actually came forward and invested some big money. And the biggest by far was the Birlas and their GRASIM.

Tucked away in the banks of the most beautiful Chaliyar, 20km away from the heart of Calicut city, bordering Malappuram, was a small hillock called Mavoor. This was the place that the Birlas chose for their Pulp and Fibre factory. Mainly, because of the plentiness of water, closeness to Nilambur - from where the facory will get all its wood and bamboo, and lots of uninhabited free land. Work started towards the end of 50's continuing through the early 60's. Being the first pulp and fibre factory (technically speaking, first Rayon grade pulp and viscose staple fibre (VSF) factory) in the country, Birlas got world class engineers from Sweden and Norway to supervise the construction. The earliest employees where Keralites who were working in the steel plants of north (Bhilai, Durgapur, Rourkela etc), lured here by the handsome salary and a chance to work so close to their homes.

As my Valiachan(one of the earliest employees), often recounts, it was a tough task. First there was no proper road connecting Calicut city and Mavoor. So the Birlas had to first built that road. And thus came into being, which is still, Calicut's most important and busiest road... the Mavoor Road. Next, there were something else to take care of... Snakes!. There were lots of them, if the ones on the ground were not enough, snakes of all sizes and shapes flowed in through the river. I remember, my Valiachan telling how they all had to wear huge boots to avoid snake bites!

Production started in 1963. By then, Grasim was one of the most important firms in Kerala. These were the best paid jobs. Best technicians and engineers of the land were here. Everything went very well for the first 20 years. There was a saying that, the merchants in SM Street will wait for the day when Grasim will pay out the bonus. Not only the pay, the employees got some excellent perks as well. State of the art clubs-houses and play grounds. Free water and electricity (so much so that every household used only electric heaters for cooking ... Nobody cared for gas). Bus sevices to fetch their children to the colleges in the town and back. And not to ever forget, one of the best schools in the entire district. I believe we were one of the first people in the entire state who watched cable TV!. Mavoorians were one privileged lot...And arrogant too in that. Maybe god was watching this arrogance!...

go to ... PART II, PART III

PHILADELPHIA

Watched "Philadelphia" (for yet another time)... supreme acting from Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington and an unforgettable piece from Bruce Springsteen. But more than that it is the theme which is more important, of fear of AIDS and homo-sexuality, a theme for 80's America and ...for today's India and Kerala.

It is sad... sad is the word not anger or pity, that how a state, which boasts of 100% literacy and has very high standards of social life, treats its people with AIDS, ghettoising them, loathing them. Who can forget Benson and Bency, two HIV+ kids who were denied admission across several schools. And finally, after they (and their lone grand father) staged a day-long fast infront of the secretariat, they were allowed into a state-run school. Only, for the parents of all other kids in that school to keep their children at home, and stage a protest. You cannot complain, parents elesewhere in Kerala would have done the same. I don't know what happened later, heard the governmet provided a teacher exclusively for them. I don't also know, how Benson and his little sister are doing now. They must be doing fine.

Many such incidences have come up in the last few years. Even the government is planning to start a school especially for HIV+ kids. Not a lasting solution, but still praiseworthy. What is needed is more awareness. And there's no better wasy to do it than through movies. To bring the issue out to into the open, in all its rawness. And who else can we look upto than the creator of "Kazcha" and "Thanmatra". Blessy you'll be blessed!