Aadukalam – the (un)fair playing field.

“Irene-u, I am lou you!” is one of those lines that will go down history books. And I mean it in a good way.

Image Courtesy: Wikipedia

Rooster fights (from the suburbs of Madurai) haven’t been seen like this in Tamil cinema in a long time. A joyous first half establishing Karuppu (rather convincingly played by Dhanush) as a loyal happy-go-lucky ‘irresponsible’ youngster who is very tactful in training roosters for fights. Then, there is our lovely Irene (played by Taapsee Pannu? Is that her name? Like velai pannu, matter pannu, Taapsee pannu?) who is looking for ‘belonging’ (which she finds rather cinematically in Karuppu’s company). There is Durai (played by Kishore who I don’t seem to have watched much before) who seems to be so easily manipulated, that you wonder if the director hasn’t ever lived a ‘real life’. There is a Rathnasamy (played by Nareyn, says wikipedia) who is a uppukkuchappaani villain. There is Pettaikaaran who is finally the real villain. There are lots more Anglo-Indian people (who are Irene’s relatives), disoriented Policemen, drunk friends, submissive wives, disgruntled mothers etc. who make very little difference to the end product.

Image Courtesy: movies.sulekha.com

A poignant story of trust and betrayal placed in the rustic background of Madurai with characters that seem real, Aadukalam is indeed a film worth spending time and money on. Although I thought the love story of Karuppu and Irene is an accessory without purpose, it is very well executed and gives the viewer the few rare smiles in between. Each relationship in the film is very real, characters with whom you can make a connection! (that younger brother of Irene’s reminds me of my younger brother! Indeed a shame that we have come to speaking in English to each other!) The rooster fights are timed to perfection, long enough to keep you curious and not so long that you are bored. The crisp edits work wonders for those scenes.

GV Prakash seems to have got a sudden flash of music sense! ‘Yathe yathe’ and ‘otha sollala’ ring in my head even now! A surprise from GV, for sure!

As a delight to watch for 2 and a half hours, this film is surely not flawless. It is all about manipulation and betrayal in a way that sounds like nobody has even a tinge of intelligence. It needn’t have gone as far as it did (killing as many people on the way) if one person of all those people used basic intelligence! Blind trust could be the argument, but I don’t believe so many people fell for that one ploy.

The film is completely predictable. One can pretty much say what will happen next. But what works for the film is the fact that you hope your guess doesn’t come true. In all, a fresh film written with finesse and executed with interest, no doubt. But Betrimaaran hasn’t ventured too far. It is film very much within the boundaries of normal-regular-cliched Tamil cinema with songs, dance, fights, love story, righteous parents of the heroine, sacrificial girlfriend and a running away scene. Isn’t it high time we dropped the unnecessary adornment?

I’ve just got one question. Why do pretty, educated, English speaking, middle class women still run away with good-for-nothing ‘heroes’? Why ya why?

Is China the new Russia?

This thought occurred to me while watching ‘Castle’ last evening. It’s the 6th or the 7th episode in the 3rd season which I don’t think is aired in India yet. If you have watched Castle before, you’d know it’s about a female detective and a male fiction writer solving cases (mostly murders) together. There is of course high likelihood you haven’t because I watched it one day when there was a marathon on FoxCrime and never heard of it ever since. My boyfriend got hooked and so I got to watch the next seasons from off the Internet.

Image Courtesy: www.castle-tv.info

Anyway, the point is that the suspect in this episode is a “Chinese spy”. There is this astrophysicist who gets killed mysteriously. Castle and Detective Beckett are investigating the case. In the process, they learn that ‘high power Federal organisations’ are also after the killer (who might have some “important” “confidential” data that the victim downloaded). When the high power Federal Official explains the situation to Detective Beckett, he mentions the “Chinese spy”. It is not inconsequential that they sent him to prison for life when they finally catch him (and he is portrayed as someone who could kill ruthlessly even after he gets work done).

It was appalling (considering my views of America, it shouldn’t have been. But that’s another debate altogether!) that the only way in which they would address him is “Chinese”. It brought back gory memories of how the Russians were treated by American Cinema, through ‘beautiful mind’ and so many others (that I am glad I don’t remember the other painfully rhetorical films I’d watched about Russia)! Just to make sure I wasn’t over reacting, I tried Googling! And look what I found!

China Vs America: fight of the century!

Chinese “space-wars” with America: A Wikileaks report!

Noam Chomsky says this and this.

Congressional Research Service found this out!

Going through these documents, I’m convinced it is not a coincidence that it’s reflecting in American media. It wouldn’t be too long before China becomes the next Russia (considering all the things they have in common!) India isn’t very friendly with China either, is it? When is Vijaykanth going to start defeating Tamil speaking Chinese ‘terrorists’, I say?

Jokes apart, this reminds me of the shortest conversation about American Foreign Policy that I ever had. After talking a wee bit about 9/11, I said “At any rate, war is bad!” The person in front of me quickly replied, “well dear, the world is not flat either!”

Stumped, that I was!

Man Madhan Ambu

This is one of the two allegedly up-market watch-this-film-if-you-want-to-be-known-as-intelligent films I watched last weekend (the other one is Dhobi Ghat and that’s coming very soon here). For now, it’s just Mannaar, MadanaGopal and Ambujaakshi!

Image Courtesy: Behindwoods.com

This is a Kamal Haasan film. Kamal Hassan has written the story, screenplay and dialogues for this film, making it for at an audience of a different league (at least, reportedly).Well, it must have been. For I wasn’t so awed at it, to say the least. let’s delve in.

There is comedy. Some fantastic lines. The film is around and about stereotypical suspecting fiances, cruel mothers of these fiances, divorced friends, bed-ridden partners and their tear-stricken wives.

Ambu (played rather un-annoyingly by Trisha, for her own good) is an independent successful woman of today who speaks ‘Anglo-Tamil’ (as she herself calls it) for acceptance and writes (or reads or whatever) Tamil poetry in her free time. She loves the man in her life but can’t particularly give up her career for him. They all talk about her being smart and sharp and all, I wonder what makes them think so. Throughout the film, she is so beautifully led by the people around her!

Major Mannaar (the Kamal Hassan who looks far from the charming self) ‘lies’ to his boss to save his friend’s life and the whole film is a comedy of lies. It is so predictable what this man would say (may be not so much) and do (for sure) next. You just know what’s going to happen next. As an ex-army man, a current detective, a widower, a French speaking widower, as Kamal Haasan..where is the charm, I say?

Madana Gopal (a drunk Madhavan who makes me think he accepted this film only because it was Kamal’s) is after his girlfriend’s life in sheer suspicion. Under the able guidance of his mother (who is the vamp, by the way), he hires a detective to spy on his girlfriend. Fantastic! But he sits in front of the TV and watches what’s called ‘emotional atyachar’ and passes crass comments about it. He is totally drunk for a good part of the film and after a point, isn’t funny anymore!

Deepa (played by Sangeetha, whose children are named Bhagirathi and Vishwanathan, in traditional Indian ways, but are called “bags” and “Vish” anyway!) has some of the best lines in the film. But the climax scene of getting drunk and “loving” Madan is totally tasteless! The young boy being told untrue things about his mother in the toilet…Nah! I’ll pass that!

Kunju Kurup and Manju Kurup practically speak Malayalam throughout the film. Why, may I ask? Oh yes, they are Malayalis! Too bad that the audiences (like me) don’t know Malayalam.

I don’t even want to talk about Ramesh Aravind and Urvashi in the film. Totally wasted!

Most certainly, the film is not all bad. It was indeed an entertaining watch and a lot of things must have contributed to that. For a start, Kamal Haasan has written some brilliant lines. From whatever little I recall, Deepa in a scene says “the matrimony was lousy. But the alimony was super”, summing her character up, all in one line (It’s not a judgement I am passsing)!

Some poignant lines of irony “Enakku cleara oru vazhi theiryudhu ma” [I see a clear way ahead] in a scene where Mannaar has walked in to a dead end and “nadutheruvula ukkandirukken” [I am sitting in the middle of the road] in a scene where he is literally sitting in the middle of the road.

In a scene, he says (something to the effect of), “Thappu panravangalukku thimiru kattupudi aagaadhu. Aana nermaiyaanavangalukku thimir than veli” [For people who are making mistakes, arrogance is not affordable. For the honest, arrogance is the protective fence]. Such an interesting thought that (certainly may have been said before. But I first heard it from him)!

“Ellaathayum vida veeramaana vishayam ahimsai. Idhu enakku modhallaye thrinjirundha naan ivlo kolaigal panni irukkave maaten” [Non-violence is the purest expression of valour. Had I known this before, I’d never have killed all the people I did (as an Army Major).] : A political statement about military and defence after all the ones about capital punishment, socialism, religion among others.

The song that’s shot backwards is a commendable effort as a song and as a narration technique. It’s a story told in less that 5 minutes and told so effectively that I know more from the song than from the whole film, I guess.

In the end, it’s the lines that make me want to watch the film again. I perhaps will when the DVD is out. But what scares me most is having to go through the last hour of badly executed Crazy Mohan like comedy! Chaos that isn’t particularly tickling. It’s a very interesting watch! It’s not one bit a rib tickling comedy! May be it wasn’t meant to be!

P.S: There is one other thing that has been ringing in my head. The brand positioning of Fortis Hospitals in the film. There are logos, references and all sorts of ways to tell the audience about Fortis in almost all hospital scenes (Ramesh Arvind’s and Kamal’s wife’s). Awesome! I know now that Fortis does Chemotherapy! But, have they noticed that throughout the film Urvashi cries that the doctor’s wouldn’t operate on Ramesh Aravind (sorry for not remembering character names) if they were not given apparently huge sums of money. I think of Fortis as money making machines with absolutely no regard for human life! Is it just me? Or is it really brand positioning gone awfully wrong?

Too bad we live ‘here’ ‘today’!

I’ve been for long, wanting to have a conversation without ‘baggage’. Not literally. I wanted to talk to someone who I knew well enough to want to talk to, but not so well enough to guess what they’d say in response. I got the opportunity one Sunday morning in Singaara Chennai!

This post is not about the morning. It’s about one thought I had during that conversation. That ‘we, in urban India, live in an era of infrastructure development’. Too bad for us! But no denying that we do!

Bangalore traffic sucks, Metro is unnecessary, flyovers are badly planned, there is no parking space, blah, blah and more blah. I am not going to deny any of that. I don’t know enough. But I do know this is the era of infrastructure development for the country (mostly urban India). The trouble we go through while a flyover is being built is like packing and unpacking while moving houses. It is indeed hassling, but it’ll be worth it in the end.

If we are going to compare ourselves with the Londons and the New Yorks of the world, we should also consider that their days of infrastructure development are over (well, almost). If we imagined the London Underground was a smooth transition, we are terribly mistaken. They all cried foul as early as in 1850s. ‘The Tube’ was called an “insult to common sense”.

The New York Public Transport System wasn’t an easy lay either! Watch the layers of poking fun in the picture below! The cartoon spits apathy!

By saying all this, I am by no means saying that we shouldn’t complain. Criticism is an integral part of participative democracy. Bring it on. Complain. Rant. Make a noise. But shout out loud enough to make the authorities listen to you. Do your part right and shout out louder.

When the Metro is ready, I would be ready to say “I endured the Bangalore Metro”! I endured development. I endured progress. I take pride because I live ‘here’ ‘now’.

Image Courtesy: www.nammametro.com

P.S: The cynic in me says “Huh! You don’t have much of a choice.” The optimist in me says, “Well, then at least lie down and enjoy it!”

The innocence that is called ‘mental’ – Nandalala

Disclaimer: I did not watch the film in a theatre. I did not also watch it in one go. I am constrained by a 13.3” screen and a 24 hour break in this review. So wherever you think I am wrong, we can discuss! 🙂

Nandalala was recommended to me by Arul, an old classmate of mine. He also said he looks forward to know what I think of films, which obviously gave me an ego boost. I decided to watch the film and I had to watch it on my computer as it was too late in Bangalore to watch in a theatre. I strongly believe it is unfair to review a film unless one has watched it in a theatre. That’s why the disclaimer!

With a whole bunch of new faces (including Mysskin’s) in the film, it was a delight that there was no baggage to anybody in the film. It is a story of two innocent people looking for their respective mothers for reasons that make sense only to themselves. The boy keeps saying he wants to meet his mother only to hug her and kiss her once. But the not-so-mature man (played by Mysskin himself) wants to meet his Mother to slap her on the face for abandoning him. Reasons, that we will know in the end, are only perspectives.

The film is a collection of wonderful moments. The boy’s character has been carved so beautifully that one gets a sense of pride every time he overcomes hassles through mere wit. Keeping money in his socks, speaking to the Policeman in English, taking lifts from generous women, crying at the right times and laughing too, fitting himself in any vehicle that lets him in, the boy is fantastic. He almost makes you trust he is right and can manage!

Bhaskar Mani, the mentally challenged adult who holds his pants in his hands until half the film, personifies innocence. You know for a fact that he is harmless, genuine and does not understand much of the ‘big bad world’. His character is so well scripted, he almost makes the viewer want to be so innocent and devoid of the cunningness we possess to survive where we are. (Damn! How much had I always wanted to delete such lines off reviews!)

The journey, the people they meet (the good, bad and the ugly ones), the vehicles they take, the distances they walk, they environment they endure, they beds they sleep in, the snake that crawls next to it, the problems of the ‘real world’ that they see from the POV of pure innocence and every other scene is crafted with love. Love for cinema.

The characterisation of the three women still fascinates me. Agi (Akhilesh, the kid)’s mother is someone who chooses not to have any contact with her son, who is perceived as the bad mother. Bhaskar Mani’s mother loses mental health herself after leaving her son in the asylum. She has a song dedicated to her and she is shown as the good mother. Then there is a woman who is pushed to being a sex worker, changes in the end and takes the place of Agi’s mother (shown symbolically through Agi kissing her instead of his mother). This woman is the born again good mother. I can’t pass a judgement of stereotyping here. But somehow this does not settle well with me. Worse, the story of the bad mother is hidden behind music. I find it rather unfair.

In conclusion, I am not a fan of closed ends. The film ended for me the moment Bhaskar Mani met his mother.

The film constantly brought back memories of Majid Majidi’s Baran, Children of heaven and the like not for reasons of style or narrative, but only for the joy (with a tinge of melancholy) that it made me feel at the end. If world class is what we are looking for in Tamil films, this one is there!

39 Steps – a laughter riot that tripped!

The 39 Steps – A comical adaptation of Alfred Hitchcock brought straight from the Broadway by Evam and precisely Bhargav Ramakrishnan. I haven’t watched the play at Broadway or anywhere else and therefore I do not have a scale to measure this against. It’s a great thing I think. So, I am going to rate this in absolute and not relativity. 🙂

Image courtesy: Evam

I am going to skip the story and the introduction for now. You can read Evam’s version here. And of course, you can Google to read around. Evam’s 39 Steps is simply a comical rendition of a murder mystery spanning itself through London and parts of Scotland. It is four-people playing about 140 characters and I must say, they’ve played it with panache.

After having Annabelle Schmit (or Smith with an accent, was it?) dead in his house, Richard Hannay (rather charmingly played by Navin Balakrishnan) escapes to Scotland in search of a Professor that she had spoken about. He embarks on a train journey which is very tactfully and efficiently executed by the team. Sunil and TMK play tens of roles in this one sequence and each one of them register very well. The train journey, the seats, the conversations, the cops, the scene where they all move back and forth to signify the train coming to a stop, the moving board that says ‘Edinburgh’, the men who are selling newspapers and everything about that train journey was enjoyable to say the least, awesome to exaggerate! The sound, the light, the action and the audience laughter were all well synchronised.

There are many such instances of awesomeness in the play. The scene where Hannay is arrested and taken in a car by the Scotland Yard, the next scene where Hannay and lady (I forget her name and can’t be bothered google-ing) run away handcuffed, the Professor’s house that is big in my head because they opened so many doors before they met the Professor and the list goes on.

But there is a big problem in a major part of the play being an accent comedy. The woman who calls herself Annabelle Schmit begins the ‘accent comedy’ with her French or German or European or whatever accent it is (with the intermittent usage of ‘ze’ for ‘the’). It could be noticed without much effort that when she is delivering her lines faster than usual she forgets the ‘ze’ and so it seems rather forced on her.

A few minutes into the play, Hannay lands in Scotland, THE land of accent comedy. This is where the play seems so misplaced. I can’t recollect anything beyond ‘whose hoose (Scottish for house) is it?’ and the total miscarriage of the pronunciation of ‘r’. As a total fan of the Scottish accent, I was very disappointed. Everybody in the play is speaking a very distinct Indian accent and so the accent comedy falls flat on its face. A little more effort into understanding and internalising the accents could have done a world of good!

TMK for some weird reason ended up playing many women roles. The screeching, desperate women roles are essayed very stereotypically in the play. I should convince myself by saying, “it was much expected”.

This is not the best Evam play I’ve watched, perhaps because it hasn’t been perfected yet! If they are really looking to take it abroad, farther than Asia, they have a lot of work ahead of them. They need their share of “bad” reviews to take from!

The Sunset Club – A nonagenarian indigestion club!

The latest offering from the celebrated grand old man of Indian-English literature, ‘The Sunset Club’ is a nonagenarian’s rant about his intolerable indigestion and insatiable desires! As a hardback of over 200 pages, it was a light read and mostly passable.

Photo Courtesy: Outlook India

It is a simple story of three old men who meet every evening at Lodhi Gardens in Delhi, discussing various occurrences in the country. Drawing almost idiotic caricatures of a Hindu Brahmin (Sharma), a Muslim (Baig) and a Sikh (Boota Singh), Khushwant Singh wavers too much between the important political happenings in the country and the old men’s bowel movements! Along with these three old men, there are drivers who sit down when their masters sit on the bench, there is a sister who can cook no good, a wife who disapproves of her husband’s alcoholism and such others. All caricatures, nonetheless.

[googlemaps http://maps.google.co.in/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=lodhi+gardens+delhi&sll=28.590608,77.219532&sspn=0.132943,0.308304&ie=UTF8&hq=lodhi+gardens&hnear=New+Delhi,+Delhi&ll=28.612922,77.224095&spn=0.053728,0.011088&output=embed&w=425&h=350]

To his credit, Khushwant Singh does take the reader through various important happenings of the year. Beginning with the Republic Day celebrations, he goes past Tata Nano, Maoism, Congress, BJP, Ayodhya verdict, Ramzan, Diwali, Christmas, Hinduism, Islam, Sikhism etc along the climatic changes in Delhi. Intertwined in these incidences are also the old men’s s*xual exploits in their eighty-odd years of existence.

What remains with me of the three characters is not much I’d like to retain in memory. At the end of the book, much beyond all the important happenings in Indian history, seen through the eyes of three ‘aam aadmis’ (may be not! They are rich and seem to be distinguished. Nevertheless) I am only left with the bad taste of these old men’s indigestion. I am not particularly someone who cringes at such things, having high tolerance for literary freedom. But this book crossed all limits. Reading over and over about Boota Singh digging himself to relieve himself is not a pleasant experience. Worse is their s*xual experiences with White women. The pages about all men having nothing else on their minds other than sticking it into someone is unbelievably tasteless. The explanation of some women showing off her sanitary pad and doing Yoga upside down in front of Boota Singh is downright gross.

Even if we could let this pass as Khushwant Singh’s style, there is a more pertinent issue in this book: The flimsy treatment of all the occurrences in the year. Sharma and Baig arguing about revenge for revenge between Hindus and Muslims is naive to say the least. All the issues are analysed at a superficial level and all problems over-simplified. But I must mention that it is downright cocky and righteous, leading the reader to think in a certain way!

A chronicler of our times claims the blurb (rather proud, I think) that is behind a book that captures the uniquely Indian narrow-mindedness, reiterates myths and perpetuates stereotypes like no other. As though he has expected this kind of reviews, Khushwant Singh offers his ‘apologia’ right in the beginning. All said, if this is the chronicle of my time, I’d be worried about my children reading it!

Ratha Sarithiram – ‘Bloody’ Hell!

From an ironic beginning to a rather preachy end, nothing about Ratha Sarithiram was something I couldn’t have guessed would happen.

The film begins with the usual disclaimer of all “similarities to any person/ incident living or dead” being completely “coincidental”. In the next frame, the director says “this is a true story”. The viewer should know at this very point that he is going to be taken for a fool.

Immediately after the disclaimer, people start mouthing what I assumed was Telugu. It seems totally like a Telugu film dubbed in Tamil. I lose interest. Then when Suriya comes, he starts speaking (and mouthing Tamil), which is fantastic, except for the fact that I wonder why he is speaking in Tamil to the people who are speaking in Telugu to him!

Image courtesy: movies.sulekha.com

Some dialogues are even transliterated to my annoyance. For example, in the scene where Surya surrenders himself to save his wife, the police officer (played by a rather thin, tall Sudeep) says, “I didn’t expect you to give in. I wouldn’t have, for my wife”. Surya says “I would”. So the Police officer retorts, “well, there is a difference between wives”. The delivery of this in Tamil kills the joy of the witticism. Badly done!

The women in the film also need a special mention. Ratha Sarithiram is a man thing. They do not kill women or children. It is only about ‘man’slaughther, taken very literally. All the wives are expected to shut up and be supportive. Surya’s wife (played by national award winning Priyamani) is brave, outspoken and even contests elections, but Surya categorically tells her not to be his weakness but be his strength when she voices an opinion against his (with the very cliched enakku balama iru, baliveenama aaydaadhe).

Prathap Ravi’s wife is also asked to shut up when she voices an opinion (which ironically is against the murder of another woman). She refuses to shut up. In the end, Prathap Ravi (played surprisingly well by Vivek Oberoi) changes his mind to her wish. It only turns out that she ends up apologising for what she did! She had gone horribly wrong.

Having said all that about treatment of women in the film, in the least there is no violence against women, no rape, no obscenity and no cheap-talk. My thumbs up for that!

After all the unsuccessful attempts portray everyone’s grey shades, Ram Gopal Verma also lectures in the end about what not to be. After escaping jail and shooting a man to death, Surya comes back to tell us that he knows what’s right and wrong! Yeah, right!

I’m away to watch Easan soon. The memories of Ratha Sarithiram are best erased!

The thing around your neck

Published earlier on www.ingoodbooks.com at http://www.ingoodbooks.com/125/the-thing-around-your-neck/

Courtesy: http://www.tipperarylibrarynews.ie/

A collection of melancholy instances in the lives of Africans, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s ‘The thing around your neck’ is most definitely not a joy-read. Written very succinctly with a short story not longer than 5-6 pages, each story is a tightly packed firecracker of emotions that bursts with a thud in the readers’ mind.

Issues ranging from terrorism, regionalism, rioting, theft, discipline, premarital sex, polygamy and arranged marriages among others, are all treated as cultural influences in the lives of Nigerians (at home and in the States). Immigration is treated very tactfully without shifting the blame on to any side, yet poignantly laying out the emotional trauma that goes through people who choose to leave home.

The title story ‘The thing around your neck’ stands out among all of them for me, though there is a long list of near bests. The two stories that are written in second person narrative (The thing around your neck and Tomorrow is not too far) where Adichie takes the reader through the journey of the protagonist as if he/ she were the person in the story. The story that begins, “You thought everybody in America had a car and a gun” takes you through a young girl’s life in America as if you were her. When that thing around her neck tightens, the reader is most likely to try and loosen it around his/ her neck.

‘The arrangers of marriage’ is one other story that took me by a trip of sorrow just by empathising with the mere helplessness of the girl who married a man her uncle (who brought her up) chose just so she wouldn’t be called ungrateful. ‘The headstrong historian’ is the story of a woman who loses her son to the aspiration for him to learn English and fight for their lost land. ‘A private experience’ is not really one as it is the gory experiences of most Africans who lose property and beloved people to religious fanaticism.

Without fancy lines, without being a tear-jerker, without even trying hard to make the reader sympathise with the characters, this book comes across as a near-real representations of lives in contemporary Africa. The book is filled with professors, policemen, writers, grandmothers, mothers, fathers, uncles, husbands, wives, Igbos, Hausas, Christians, Muslims, who come across as genuine real people you would have seen, met or heard about in your life.

I’d say, it’s a great read. I did surely not cry out loud at the end of each story. But I spend hours of the day thinking about the book and feeling heavy about the unfair distribution of happiness to people.

The woman that wants to be grazed on!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JlPL6M5Km1Y&w=480&h=390]

I’ve not been intrigued and left in awe by any other other piece of literature in a long time. The day the music of Endhiran was released, I woke up early in the morning to download the songs and listen to them (I live in Aberdeen, Scotland. Couldn’t possibly have bought one off the shelves). Of all the songs in the film, Kilimanjaro took me through a totally different literary (not musical) experience. Pa. Vijay had new lessons in S3x(uality) for us! I was very very impressed. So, I took the burden on me to translate the lyrics in English for the benefit of those who can not enjoy the same in Tamil. Better late than never, isn’t it?

Disclaimer: Please excuse my lack of knowledge to translate words like kinnikozhi. Please enlighten me if you know better. Also please excuse if the words don’t rhyme in English.

Male: Kilimanjaro mountain-woman manjaro dimple manjaro who who?
Mohanjodaro who entered you? who dug your bag? Who slowly dug? (Change made on 07 Jul 2011 after an advice from Madhan Karky) who who?

Female: Hey forest dweller, bite me green,
Bake with your kisses and peel with your lion-teeth!
Come like a snake and catch the deer.
Add salt and pepper and make me a soup and drink!

Male: Eve’s sister is with me
Is this man-height olive fruit fully for me?

Chorus: Once in a way, you wrap me
Once in a way, you count my kiss

Male: Hey green of a plant, hey lemon, on you is my life’s desire

Female: In my Hundred crore nerves, your name is the music

Male: Sweet spinach, hey sugar, you are folding my heart in two

Female: I am a soaked fruit, slowly dry me and bite.

Male: I am the sun light that penetrates the root, you have kept a leaf-screen

Female:Lock your lip with mine and open after eons with love.

Female: Hey forest dweller, hey happy-go-lucky,
I am a skin-instrument (meaning skin covered percussion), please play me.

Male: Hey, fruit that does not poke my skin,
hey wing-ed moon that celebrates gender
(Is my loose translation of paal kondaadum nila. Paal as in Aanpaal, Pennpaal?)

Female: I am a tree body, you are a woodpecker
I am a forest, you are a forest dweller

Male: 100 grams is your waist
Hereon, I am your dress

Female: I am a five-foot tall plant, please graze on me

Male: If you are the green, young grass, Tigers can eat grass, why not?!