The Epic war of spices (Part 1)

Andhra did not get Chennai, or Madras as it was known then. The states were reorganized, boundaries fell, capitals rose and new states were formed. But, Andhra did not get Chennai. The newly formed states, Tamil Nadu (madras state, back then) and Andhra Pradesh though, never forgot what had transpired. There was residual anger under the surface of this uneasy calm,fanning up petty fires.

But, the animosity as it is today, between the two clans has nothing to do with the partition. It has innocent beginnings. It is also linked strangely to the sweetness of sambar in Karnataka (Who woud have thought sambar could be a bone of contention?).

Madras, a long time ago, took the sour and mildly sweet bisibelabath of Udupi and did away with the sweetness. The sambar, without its sweetness was hot, and spicy, and mildly sour. Gone were the sweetness of thoughts, actions and taste.

The first instance of this spicy sambar as always, can be traced back to a cook's smarts. Varadhachari, The head cook at the Chief Minister’s bungalow, Madras wanted to be rid of the ant problem in the kitchen. As he was tidying the place up, he saw his understudy slipping a few slabs of jaggery into a cloth bag.

“Edhuku da?” (for what?) he snarled. He was a man of quick temper and was generally as sour as tamarind rasam and as bitter as bitter gourd fry.

“Sambar ku na…” (for sambar / Anna,also na, are words for elder brother)

“Cha! Throw it out of the window; I have had enough with this nonsense. Today we are cooking sambar without jaggery.” 

“It will be too hot Anna”

“Nonsense!! Throw it!!”

“without jaggery?”

“Aama da” (yes)

Legend has it, that night, the Chief Minister’s bungalow glowed extra bright with the lights of the bungalow and the tummy of the occupants. The next day though, the bunglow and its occupants realised that this was actually tastier and that adding jaggery was in fact “nonsense”. They forgave Varadhachari but cautioned him to watch his temper and that his next transgression would be his last.As he was leaving the hall, after the inquisition, the matron of the family remarked “Varadhu, Please reduce the spice, but don’t add jaggery to sambar ever again”.

All was well. For the next few months at least. But, Varadhu, being Varadhu had to lose his temper again and this time it had consequenses. He became the unwitting protagonist of the fateful evening that started this cold, pile bleeding war.

The events of the day are mostly documented only through word of mouth. By stitching together the anecdotes of the many hands in the chef’s kitchen, the following has been agreed by most scholars as the most plausible story of that day. On that fateful summer  night though, no one spoke, and on the next day, most of them stayed in, refusing to come out. (rather, they stayed out, refusing to come in - the toilet complex was outside the premises). 

It is believed that Varadhachari had missed his afternoon kapi (coffee). His wife had fought with him over some domestic issue and had refused him his afternoon kapi.

andha round pathrathula pala sudavekadhengo nu eththandhadava sollirken?

How many times have I told you not to boil milk in the round bottomed vessel?

Mathadellam thekkanum di…

Others are already used and are to be washed

Thechu eduthukkapdadha?

 Can’t you wash them?

Ippo enna aachu?

What’s wrong with this now?

Neenga velila pongo, ongalukku coffee kadayadhu…

Get out no coffee for you today

He was actually angrier at not having kapi on schedule than he was with her for denying it. He stormed into the CM’s kitchen.

“What is all this?”

“Guests have come from Andhra na, I'm making our famous sweet free bisebelabath”

“Seri, for that you will waste this much rice a?”

“Anna… 4 people more”

“They won’t eat even half of this… remove some rice...”

“Anna, the spices are already...”

“Ennada noinoi nu, I said get some rice out of this Anda” (Anda- A large vessel)

“Seri na…”

What happened after that as they say is history. And the last line, as they say, is a cliché.

The main ingredient in the Sambar responsible for this, the powder of spices: Extracted, enriched and reduced into a highly spicy concoction was not sufficiently controlled by the heat exchanger (Rice). The nuclear fission instantly brought tears to the eyes, steam through the ears, mucus through the nose and other miscellaneous things from other miscellaneous orifices. 

In other circumstances, the incident at the bungalow would have evoked laughter, derision and a string of bad toilet jokes. Not this time, this was different, this was war. The “guests” from Andhra would take this personally.... 

.... To be continued

It is probably the idle mind, it is probably the devil.

There are virtues and there are vices and there are other things that you can get away with. Are virtues really virtues? Are vices really vices? Am I Nuts? Maybe…

Live your life with passion, they say , but not so much that you forget your material commitments. Live your life with devotion, they say, even if it means accepting things that you don’t agree or understand. Live without fear, live with gay abandon,live and be modest about it. Love one and all, love unconditionally, as long as the boundaries are not breached...

Do ‘good’; Selflessness is good, courage is good, dedication is good, sincerity is good, grammar is good revenge is good. No? ok not revenge then; or was your problem with grammar? 

Apparently, Everything happens for the good, but can’t happen according to your wish. Life doesn’t work like that. Don’t be selfish, think about others. Think about others who get it their way when you let go. It is a small price to pay for their happiness. Aren’t they happy? In their happiness, lies yours. There is a soul, there is conscience. There is god. In the end everyone gets their just desserts.

Life is overrated. There was never an alternative. Intelligence is overrated. Lies, More lies, more and more lies, arguments and counter arguments, who is to judge. You are corrupt only if you are caught. In general, I shall judge you for this, vilify you for that, string you up for this other thing, but glorify you later, for the same, after you die. Why? Mortgage.

Adhere to society, don’t step out. Complain about the herd, but not too loudly, the foxes await in sheep’s clothing. Interpolate faiths, extrapolate practices. Apply logic and reason, transcribe old superstitions.  Think, rationalize, Induce, instigate, rule, justify, moralize, patronize, neutralize.

All the rats are running to the sea. All the rats end up in the sea. But that is fatalistic; a destructive thought and a bad thought process. Constructive ones are those that involve stopping for breath, admiring, taking in the world around you, living in the present and running around trees; only to find others have left you far behind. 

Run, Just a little more, a few more steps,for all to change. Run, just a little more, only to find it all the same.

No. Not any more. change.

Write, sing, dance, laugh, play, live, lose, regret,cry, ache, pull yourself up again,take a deep breath, control your emotions, curb urges, calm them nerves, and feel at peace; enlightened, zen. There is nothing wrong with defeat,nothing wrong with death. You don't need to pray to keep them at bay nor do you need to fear the judgement day. It is going to happen on an another day if not today. 

Live with your convictions, your morals and only for yourself, even if it is wrong. The truth is there is really no 'right' or 'wrong'. Just a set of good arguments and a set of bad ones... 

some songs don't stick no?

Music is a medium; it makes the air around less overwhelming. Music is rhythm; the rhythm that flows through the way things are done; the typing, the speed, the pauses, the blinks and the restless taps  searching for words. Music is white noise. It brings down the volume on the strident disquiet of solitude. And sometimes, every once in a while,on one of those rare occasions, a piece of music catches you unaware and  transcends into something surreal. It demands that you listen to it, perceive it with all your senses, and you do, with rapt attention.

There is this song by the name “chandiranai” from the movie ratchagan. The song was pretty much in a nondescript corner in my player and used to pop up now and then only to be flipped over for the current favourites. But on this particular train journey, I was taken by surprise, spellbound at the beauty it could conjure.I was so hooked that I had to stop after three of four repetitions lest I dilute the effect it had on me. The breeze, the moonlight, and the rhythm the train set; somehow it was magical.

I had not come across the song’s picturization then. Hence, the mind painted its own picture. The motif being a duet set in a misty twilight / night bathed in moonlight with a gentle breeze; a bit of graceful dancing here and there along with silhouettes and shapes flitting through the conciousness now and then complementing the song's mood.  I didn’t know what the movie was about, neither did I know where the song came in or what the emotions were, leading up to the song. (Turned out , when I did watch the movie later, the all pervading emotion throughout the movie was one of boredom and hopelessness.) I had drawn my own version of the song and to me it was lovely.

What I didn't expect was the rude shock I had when I did eventually get around to watching it on TV; there was not a single shot of the moon. I was scandalized. I wondered what the director had smoked up to come up with this. After watching some of his other movies, later, I have come to realize now, that he has a natural flair for stupidity. But back then, I was a bit naive.When a song goes “chandiranai thottadhu yaar Armstrong a?” (Did Armstrong touch the moon?) and the rhythm is so lazy; so beautiful, why would he shoot anything else other than the moon? Why would he show us this nonsense? what is the theme of this anyway? 

Composing music for cinema is a two way process. The director sets the mood while the composer comes up with the tone. And they discuss. When I think about our commercial potboilers, I often wonder what the narrative to the composer would be like. Especially in cases where duets are used almost as place holders. “I’m going to New Zealand, I’m planning to take arching shots of the landscape, compose something for me”. Fair enough. Makes enough sense for the composer get a grip on the expected output. But when or how does a song go discordant?

Another song that comes to my mind here is “aathangarai marame” from kizhaku seemayile. I couldn’t forgive myself for watching it on TV for a long time. Personally I thought that the composer had over shot the narrative. I still wonder if the song really required such richness.If it did, then the visual imagery had failed to deliver on the promise.I do concede here that the song as a separate entity was beautiful.Similarly, In the more recent times, no other song has disappointed me more than “adiye” from Kadal. What a damp squib.

Circumspect is the word. Or you can probably insulate yourself. How? when a song that you have just heard, gives you the Goosebumps, floods you with vibrant imagery, assume that the video in all probability is hopeless. then proceed to watch it; get pleasantly surprised if it does live up to the song. If it did not, you always knew :D