Unnarugil Varugayil

You enthrall me with your presence
You are the reason, my sweetheart...
that I am always at loss

Ecstasy seeps into me
And I feel I am on the brink of fame
Just when I hear your name
My shadow departs me to joins yours
I defy myself and I get reckless
I briefly assay
and my heart has nothing to say

Though I succeed in staying faraway
from the thought of your eyes,
Your heart conquers mine, and
I don't have the heart to resist.
I tell myself a million times
to deviate from the path of yours.
I deviate and yet you reach me!
Now, I can do nothing but to stop.

My soul, my persona, my ego
all seem to take a new form.
My friends speak, though,
my ears refuse to fall by the norm.

Make me understand...
Is this how love deals with agonies?
or are these consequences of my desire?

How I wish to experience with you
all my life's pain and joy again?
While I pine for you relentlessly
time slaves me and burns me into ashes,
through every second that it is with me.

I wish to speak a million words
right into your eyes,
I wish to grasp all the flowers
that blossom in my dreams,
I wish to find the abode of God
and decipher the mystery of love,
I wish to break my heart's shackles
and the need to conduct my senses...
All but in vain!

I seem to gallivant
in your eye's direction,
and wait forever, with all my faith
for your gaze to set onto my eyes.
You trouble me
like a lie locked in my heart,
Albeit, I still try to hide you
and yet, my eyes let me down...

In love, but I win!

Six hours and a few days. This was the time that I spent trying to find a competent English lyrical replacement of this beautiful song 'Unnargil varugayil...' from the movie Kalloori.

The overall experience was even similar to falling in love. Initially, I felt an urge to win over the song by being able to come up with an equally competent English version. I attempted to pull through mindlessly, by sheer pride. But then, the initial excitement faded away, and I felt miserable as I could not do justice to the song. I realized that I was not being honest in my intention—of feeling the song and then be inspired to render. It tormented me and guilt prevailed. A few days later, after realizing the mistake that I did, and after listening to the song over and over again, I felt the pleasure and the charm of the song.

My previous renditions were Kannathil muthamittal, Minnalae, and Nee partha paarvaikku. Each song had extremes of emotions and it was quite easy for me get evoked. I mean we listen to a thousand love songs in a day. And to translate it, the song must be really special to be able to create the enthusiasm that you decide to invest some of your efforts and emotions. But this song is special—as in, even though it is a light love song, yet there was something unique about its rhythm and structure. The specialty of the structure of this song is that the pallavi repeats itself thrice in the beginning of the song and not a single verse repeats itself later.

The song flows through like a marathon and that too effortlessly. The best part is that the orchestration is very ordinary and yet the song stands apart for its simplicity, innovative structure, and the beautiful lyrics. Na Muthukumar has beautifully captured the plight of the ones in love and I am speechless to describe about Joushua Shridhar's tune to this song. The usual style of music in typical love songs or any song for that matter is that there are about three tunes: one for pallavi, one for the two saranams, and perhaps one more for the music between the pallavi and the saranam. With this song, I could not believe that there are at least about ten unique tunes in this one song!

I must say it was sheer pleasure working on the 'free translation' of the tamil lyrics of Unnarugil Varugayil from Kalloori. Coming soon...

Dated: May 04 - May 07, 2009

Yesterday...

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,
Now it looks as though they're here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be,
There's a shadow hanging over me,
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why she had to go I don't know, she wouldn't say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday...

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play,
Now I need a place to hide away,
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Why she had to go I don't know, she wouldn't say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday...

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play,
Now I need a place to hide away,
Oh, I believe in yesterday...

This is some late realization, I accept. But then, such an amazing, simple, beautiful, heart-wrenching song this is... by The Beatles. Something that would stay close to my heart and mind.

Competition

The urge to compete with self or others is an instinctive and deeply rooted feeling in quite a number of individuals, especially kids. What is important is to identify what evokes the spirit of competition in them.

One morning, I was walking relatively relaxed towards the bus stop—relaxed enough to notice trivial things that often catches us unaware and lets us revel. There were the usual scenes of dog walkers, the man who cycles his son to the school and never forgets to draw the cross as he passes by the church, the cycle man who dutifully sits by the side of his for-hire cycles and wears the looks of a dad who has that many number of aging unmarried daughters, the grocer who never feels bored to sell the same goods to the same people with the same enthusiasm and rigor, the dry wood godown that has its casuarinas stacked all in order and the cold coal on the floor gathering some heat from the mellow morning sun, the work-in-progress lamppost around the corner of the road pretending to be a banyan tree with all the thick black wires hanging from top to bottom, the vengeful blacksmith who strikes the iron while its hot and the onlookers who see their instruments of work getting ready, the bustling government gym, and the me who is wondering about the oft-repeating dream where I run really hard across the connecting corridors of my school and climb down the stairs two steps at a time with utmost precision to reach the back gate of my school.

There was also this very small puny school boy sporting his green t-shirt with some white printed letters hiding behind his backpack, white shorts, his hair oiled and kempt—I can even hear the instructions that his mom gave him while combing his hair, the tightly pulled up socks that covered his shank, the matt-finished white shoes with a green band that ran all along the periphery of his shoes, walking brisk and carefree.

So it is me and small kid in the picture now... He would not have caught my attention if he had not tried to reach one of the strings hanging outside the petty shops that display their liabilities. This is what exactly happened: while he was walking, he thrust some pressure onto his toes and sprung up and touched the string with his head. I was amazed at this gesture that made me conclude that there is nothing unique about me when I try to reach the beams of a roof with my finger tips.

With just this act of his, he managed to evoke a smile and gather all my attention. At this stage, we were walking by the side of each other and this continued for about 20 seconds. Believe me—to maintain the same pace as mine, the kid really had to take at least twice as many steps that I took for the same duration. He was obviously trying to beat me. And the moment I realized him, I wanted to test his intent or rather, my intent. I increased my pace and went ahead and in the next a few seconds, I did really witness him inching closer to me. Finally, I let him feel good by lagging behind...

November Rain

Bleached skies, blistered window panes
Dutiful warriors fighting the rain
armed with the spokes and black arch.
Incessant rains, incessant deaths.
Bleeding roads--bleeding green instead of red.
Helpless trees: do you ever repent
the death of a thousand leaves?
'cos you bring the rain
but the rains betray you...

You are too good...

I am inside a moving train
that wont let me
hear, feel, or smell you

You are far away
blessing everyone with flourish

blooming the blushing pink to red

replenishing the reservoirs

reciprocating your love
to the tree-tops and the grass roots

waking the slumbering leaflets
with your gentle pats and taps

letting the satin clouds sweep and kiss
its lady love at the top of the mountains

you are too good,
despite the streaks of rashes
that you create on my window panes...

Theory of relativity

Painstaking self-accomplishments made in the past five years looks far too easier and quicker than the goals that I plan to achieve between now and the end of the fifth year from now.