For The Love Of Superstar

I wasn’t much of a movie person at all, when I was in school. I was allowed to watch movies very rarely, and the only source I got to watch them, was on the TV – on the DD national. So most of the movies I watched as a kid were only Hindi movies, and they would star either of these 3 actors – Amitabh Bachchan, Rajesh Khanna or Shah Rukh Khan. (Because they are my dad’s favourites). This practice continued even during my college days, but the number of channels that I was allowed to watch had increased. So I had an extensive variety of movies to watch, all again Hindi. 

All the while though, I wasn’t living in a bubble. Because, in the few Tamil channels that were available at my place, everytime a Superstar Rajinikanth’s movie was telecast, every member of the family would finish the task at hand at an amazing speed, and would sit down to watch the movie. No switching of channels during the movie was allowed. No disturbance of any kind was entertained until the movie was over. 

When my friends(from outside Tamil Nadu) at work came to know I hadn’t watched many of his movies yet, they were amazed. And I was amazed too, by the amount of their fervour, their love for the Superstar. 

But one thing was clear to me, all through. Our Superstar has always the one supremely common thread who kept us connected. Everytime, then and now, his movie is released, it is celebration time for all of us. There would be excitement about the music, the plot, the ticket – booking, but what tops it all is the opportunity for us to see our Thalaivaa on screen again. Such is his charisma. His expressions become our emotions. His signature style, our ultimate swag. His movie, an experience for a lifetime. His fans become family. He is that undisputed uniting factor of the country. He is our Thalaivaa, our Superstar. Our only Rajini. 

P.S. Check today’s The Hindu, Cinema Plus, Page 2 ūüėčūüíě


The Real Charm…

Expensive Goggles and a black tux,

Oozing charm and all good looks,

All this and more will seem fit,

If only there’s ample wisdom and real wit!

P.S. This is part of my Pen The Picture project. Hope you like reading what I write.


I had a Periya Patti (My grand mother’s elder sister) named Visalam. ¬†She used to frequently visit us at our place and stay with us for quite a while right since I was a kid.

When I was a kid, I used to love listening to stories, so every time she visited us, I used to bug her to tell me stories until she got tired. And she used to patiently oblige me every single time. She also used to make some yummy sweets at her place and save a portion for me, to give them to me when she visited us. She loved talking and loved to listen to me babble, even more.

As I grew older, my time with her became extremely restricted Рnot that she had stopped visiting or someone had prevented us from talking, but my interests had changed. I wanted to stay with people of my age, wanted to interact with people who were cool, who taught me new, tacky, cool stuff. I began to spend more time with gadgets, than with the people around. Though I was extremely polite, well behaved and courteous, I did not continue to share the same rapport with her that I used to. Every time she visited, she looked forward to meeting me, and I would politely meet her, greet her, help her with what she wanted and then I would go back to doing what I was doing. The bonding though, was lost. From my end. Because I thought she was uncool to hang with. Because, I became busy bonding with people who I thought were cool enough.

As years passed, she grew old and her trips began to reduce. She couldn’t travel the way she used to. I grew up as well, old enough to choose¬†the importance of real warmth, understanding and affection over peer-swag, “cool company” and the put-up love. And I eagerly looked for her to visit us again. And the next time she did, she bought few coffee flavored toffees with her. And gave them to me with so much love that I couldn’t even think of refusing them, though I hated everything coffee. So I took them from her, opened one and popped it into my mouth right in front of her. And beamed at her. And told her that I loved the toffee and thanked her profusely for bringing them for me. She just smiled in response and pulled me into an everlasting hug. The moment¬†was priceless. She then made me sit down next to her, and told me to simply talk to her. I was moved. So, I began to tell her the happenings of the day and all that had happened in the past years. She listened keenly, to the most minute boring details and kept appreciating, consoling, cheering me as was appropriate. Not once did she frown. Not once did she lose her patience. I remember the number of times I had frowned and had lost patience ¬†– when it was actually¬†my inability to bridge the generation gap, when it was my inability to extend my hand to help her at her ripe old age and match my pace with hers, when it was my fault that I didn’t take time out to sit with her, spend time with her, listen to her share her experience, take in her words of wisdom. But.¬†Not once did she complain. Not once. She just loved having me by her side, and kept me close to her, calling my name fondly every now and then.

A year later when¬†she visited us, probably one of her last visits to our place ever, she bought me a huge packet of the same coffee toffees from the money she had saved and the moment she saw me coming, with trembling hands, she took the packet from her bag and thrust it into my hands. She told me “Last time I gave these to you, you loved them. I thought you would still like them. Last time I had bought you only very few. So this time, see, I have got you a huge packet.” and she smiled a huge, innocent, “full-of-warmth” smile. I was beyond moved. Somewhere in this big rat race that I have been running, I was lost in the fake warmth, put-on smiles and the cool-dude attitudes. In a world where people think before they reach out to help their own parents, here was a lady who just wanted to see me happy, without wanting¬†anything in return. Here was a lady who just wanted my time, my love and warmth, who loved me for just exactly what I was – without any expectations.

It’s been over 2 years since she passed away. I didn’t realize her value when I was young, when she was agile, when she had time. But now, when she is no more, I miss her. I miss her warmth. I miss her presence. And yesterday when I was craving for chocolates, and spotted a packet of the same old coffee toffees that she used to give me, I grabbed it right away and went back home reminiscing the old flavor, the old memories, recalling my time with my Visala Patti.

That is why, perhaps,¬†you always, always have to love, support and spend quality time with your family. With your friends, with people whom you call your own. You don’t have to have a huge circle or a big list of Facebook friends/Twitter followers. Even a small circle of people who love you for who you are, simply because they are happy to be part of your life, will do. So tell people you love them, when you can. Make them feel special. Make them feel¬†they are important to you.¬†Time flies. There’s no point regretting when people are no more. Make them feel good when they are alive, with you, in flesh and blood. Seize every moment. Make every moment a beautiful memory to cherish. Make your every moment a blessed¬†nostalgia.

YOU Are…

You are the tide that wows everyone over,

You are your own four-leaf clover,

You are your success, you are your exclusive source of glee,

You are the change you’ve always wanted to see!

P.S. This is part of my Pen The Picture project. Hope you like reading what I write.

It’s Time…To Come Out Of Your Hiding..

You’re the hidden treasure,

With Wit, beyond measure;

The world needs you, You dark horse,

To break it’s impending farce!

P.S. This is part of my Pen The Picture project:) Hope you like reading what I write:)


As I reminisce my childhood, I am reminded of all my likes and my favourites, most of which I resent now. I am reminded of my choices. At school, I was in awe of a senior, who was everything I was not. She was tall, beautiful, intelligent and extremely talented. I looked up to her and admired her so much that I went around telling my friends that she was my sister. Some hero worshipping thing I did, back then. Which I totally, totally resent now. I wanted to look beautiful, have my nails painted, wanted a stylish cut for my hair, wanted clothes similar to what my friends wore, in my wardrobe. Hailing from a very, very strict and conservative family, I was obviously denied all of this. So, I used to look up to people who were all that I was not, who could do all that I couldn’t. I wanted to be one of them, do what they did, look the way they looked and carry myself the way they did. I wanted the attention they got.

But now when I look back, I laugh at my own then foolish self. I laugh at my choices. What used to hold my attention back then, doesn’t even matter an inkling to me now. Those choices don’t seem to hold any value to me anymore. I realised I wasn’t really happy doing whatever I thought was amazing back then. I realised I wanted something else from life. I realised I wanted to be someone else, do something else altogether different. I realised I no longer liked the people I so admired. I realised times change, and people change with it too. Priorities change and perspectives change too. I realised what I truly value and what I don’t.

I don’t know what I want from life, yet. But I quite know what I don’t want, and what I won’t value. That’s half the problem solved, right?

The Real Picture…

What, with your eyes, you see,

Might not how things’ll actually be,

So, look, think, understand,

That’ll help you wisely take a stand!





P.S. This is part of my Pen The Picture project:) Hope you like reading what I write:)