Kalyana parisu comedy scenes

It always came on your radio in the afternoon. Around 4 pm on weekends. The people in your house have woken up from the slumber induced by the heavy meal and now are ready for some hot coffee. The aroma of filter coffee wafts in from the kitchen. It doesn’t have to waft far as there are only two rooms. Someone switched on the radio and this comedy scene comes on again. You’ve heard it many times but it never tires you or your family members. It stays fresh and funny no matter how many times you hear it. You’ve never seen the movie though. You remember seeing the poster on your trip to your sister’s town. The black and white posters on the wall right next to the party symbols running for the assembly election that year. One of the symbols had a cow and a calf. Someone had thrown cow dung on another poster next to it. You try to paint a picture from the sound of the characters and as always, you are far from reality. Later, when tape recorders came into households, your friend’s folks had this on tape as well, and you borrowed the mono set and heard it like you’ve never heard it before. Timeless.

Kraftwerk – Robots

There’s a music shop that has opened down the corner on the first floor of the two storeyed building that has some random shops, like a travel agent, a Xerox shop etc. You go there in the evening with your friend to check out the price of recording songs. You’ve just learnt things like TDK, Sony, Maxell tapes and that they come in 90 and 60 options. Your friend’s got a new mono player in his house, while you’d have preferred a stereo you can’t force his dad to buy what you need so you settle. There are lots of brand new vinyl records with sexy images of women in skimpy clothes, abstract visuals, guys with funky hair style … as you browse and ask if he has the songs you heard on Radio Australia, you hear this rather catchy tune coming on. And you ask him to record this immediately.

Paruvame

It’s a winter morning in the small town which has its own weather system that separates it from the big cities. Water gets real cold without freezing, coconut oil somehow freezes and becomes greasy snow in a bottle, door fronts feature rangolis with pumpkin flowers on cow dung mound, it’s December back home. You look forward to the school half yearly holidays, and soon, in the coming month, there will be a longish break for the harvest festival. As you walk to the bus stop, watching people shiver in the early morning cold which has made some shop keepers sleep a little late in opening the shutters of their shops, the sun breaks through the clouds bringing a brief respite from the biting cold. You try to keep to the slivers of the sun on the ground but it disappears again. Somewhere on a radio this song comes wafting through like the aroma from a gently cooked meal.

Last thoughts on Woody Guthrie

It’s afternoon in another country, in a friend’s small apartment with a music system that seems bigger than the room. Outside seems shut out and it’s quiet inside. The poet’s uncertain voice stammers to a start and rolls and tumbles along taking you on a ride through the rollercoaster life with its sham and skullduggery, cheapskates and cheaper thrills, political plotting and character assassination among hope and sunset that doesn’t feel like the end. It leaves you quiet for a while. You hear it again. And let it sink in slowly as spreads into your consciousness, leaving a trail that gets covered with your workaday life over time only to resurface, suddenly. Like today.

Engengo sellum

Another June morning, another beautiful day with soft rain and gentle sunshine. As you walk to school, past the tea shop with its customary morning customers, you scan the odd sizes posters hung from clips on a thread under the counter with big jars of candies and biscuits, carefully avoiding the puddles, you hear this song coming from the radio set. The songs is soft and gentle too, you notice, blending seamlessly with the June morning. People look happy, girls look prettier, the day promises nice surprises. You actually look forward to going to school!

Mozart Symphony No.40 in G minor

It’s around 4 in the evening, the oily, sweaty faced school kids are returning home. The evening sun is slanting its slightly less vicious rays as if it’s had a change of heart. Besides the school kids and girls from college, the street is busy with milk men, their Vespas overloaded with aluminium drums of milk, the nor-so-out of place cattle being shepherded home and the odd office worker. Looks like water has been relased, as you see neighbours with their plastic vessels waiting at the pump. There is that pretty girl again, on her way back from college. You see her in the morning sometimes. You and your friends saw her carrying a violin case the other day, and someone ferreted out this tape that had Mozart’s symphonies. You liked this piece even though you had no clue about movements and other technical details about classical music. The tape is in the deck, you are standing out at the gate looking out to see if the girl is close by so you can relay the information and the guy inside can play it loud. No one is sure what is supposed to happen. Was there a faint hope that she would come rushing into a stranger’s house with five strange guys and offer her love for everyone just because the residents seem to display decent taste in music evidenced by a classical piece emanating from the house?As she passes by, you think you detected, what was that, a smile? Could it be? Well, that kind of makes your evening, a ghost of a smile on your favourite girl's face, a girl whose name you didn't know, whom you would never talk to. But still, it feels good.

Sledgehammer

They said there will be a show late night (which meant around 10) on TV about some music awards. A friend of yours says his neighbour has a TV and it’s ok to go there and watch it. You feel a bit awkward going to the house of someone you don’t know, and watching something you are not sure of. But a few other friends gather, and since it’s a weekend coming up, you decide to go. It’s not like you have to go alone. So after dinner, the guys come to your place and you go to your friend’s house, and he takes you to his neighbour, who welcomes you at this rather odd hour. The house has a distinct smell. They have sofas and a recessed wall cupboard with some figurines and kids’ things. A plaque is there in the centre. Somebody must have won something. Some photographs of the family. It says Dyanora on the TV set which is in a wooden box housing with shutters. The whole thing is standing on four wooden legs splayed out like under a dining table. You all settle as comfortable as you can in a stranger’s house at 10 pm, and the programme comes on. There are videos of many songs you’ve never heard of, you don’t hear much except for what comes on the radio, and that too only for a short while.This one was memorable, it had interesting things happen to the singer/actor.