RIP Dr APJ Abdul Kalam

From the small town of Rameshwaram, from what looks like a severed link to the island of Sri Lanka, came this young boy who finished his schooling in Schwartz Matriculation School while supplementing his family with additional income by distributing news papers early morning, who moved on to Trichy to graduate in Physics at St Joseph’s College. With the dreams of becoming a fighter pilot he went to Madras and graduated in Aerospace Engineering from Madras Institute of Technology, Chromepet.

A life in the IAF wasn’t in Dr Kalam’s destiny having narrowly missed out in getting selected and joined the DRDO as a Scientist getting to work under greats like Vikram Sarabhai and Raja Ramanna. Dr Kalam moved to the ISRO and led India’s efforts in developing high-technology to greater heights despite budgetary constraints and at times international sanctions like the one right after India’s II nuclear test in May 1998.

Dr Kalam led from the front in operationalizing the Agni and Prithvi missiles right from conception, development, testing and adding them to the armed forces kitty. Dr Kalam’s contribution in the field of medicine is without any parallel. He’s steered DRDO to design easy to wear prosthetics for the disabled. He also helped design a low cost coronary stent. Dr Kalam’s account about the devastating effect of the 1964 Dhanushkodi cyclone and how it changed his outlook towards life is awe inspiring.

Dr Kalam  loved students and children and spent a lot of time interacting with them and sharing ideas. It’s almost poetic that his end came at one such stage in Shillong, Meghalaya. Dr Kalam has authored (or co-authored) a total of 15 books which remain best sellers. Dr Kalam was also a scholar of Tamil and could quote from the Thirukkural, Thiruppavai, Kurunthokai and many other old texts verbatim at will. He was also an exponent of the veena and was a discerning listener and fan of Carnatic Classical music.

Dr Kalam is a sterling example of what’s destiny can make off if one puts one’s heart and mind to a purpose using the limited means of the state in the idea that India became after 1947. That a little boy from an almost under privileged background at the southern most tip of this country could make it to the top of the country becoming it’s President by sheer hard work. A devout Muslim who had a truly secular outlook, who bowed to none nor expected anyone to bow before him.

RIP Dr Avul Pakir Jainulabdeen Abdul Kalam. God bless your soul.

The end of the original “Delhi Diary”

This blogger feared the worst when Vinod Mehta didn’t post another column after the 8th of Dec 2014 on Outlook, the legendary “Delhi Diary”. On the same page dated 23rd Feb it was Krishna Prasad, Outlook’s Editor-in-Chief, who wrote and it was a sign of what to expect. Vinod Mehta wasn’t going to be around anymore.

Yesterday he passed away leaving behind his wife and their pet canine companion the humorously named “Editor”, who for years was written about on the column. The obits since then in various media outlets have all unanimously praised Vinod Mehta. Even the PM had put out a condolence message on Twitter, despite the Editor not being one of those cheerleaders of the current establishment, nor the previous.

Vinod Mehta was one of those rare editors who didn’t start their careers as beat-reporters in journalism. Right from his first job he’s been an editor all the way from Debonair to Outlook. Until Outlook he was known for being inventive but not for being commercially successful.

I first found an issue of Outlook in 1995 in my friend’s house. His bank manager Dad, a voracious reader, was a subscriber of the magazine. I instantly took liking to it’s style and anti-establishment stance. Over the years that has evolved into being a fan of the magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, who also wrote regularly the column titled “Delhi Diary” and many a times those 800 words about a pressing subject of that time.

Outlook was also where I discovered Arundhati Roy and Ramachandra Guha. The former always got all the space her beautiful prose in the long form needed. From the latter’s articles I also spilled over to reading his books, except the one’s on cricket. Vinod Mehta wrote all his articles on paper, he took to a computer only in 2013.

Vinod Mehta was a rare journalist who never failed to talk about the rot in his profession. NDTV never invited him after Outlook published the transcript of the Radia tapes in 2010 which was critical of Barkha Dutt’s role in the political quagmire during the formation of UPA2. A big corporate house stopped giving out advertisements and I suspect that was a reason Vinod Mehta was shunted upwards and named “Editorial Director”. He was also an avid advocate of self-regulation in journalism, this hasn’t yet taken off in our country.

Vinod Mehta was also know for his liberal views and was stridently secular. He was friends with all which a lot of his readers in the last 5 years failed to appreciate some even calling him an apologetic of the Gandhi family. He was also someone who could take jokes and brickbats about himself. A cursory reading of the “letters to the editor” column would show you how much he enjoyed publishing the criticism of his readers.

Vinod Mehta was able to run Outlook independently because he also was able to make it commercially viable and profitable for his owners. When he wrote about his long lost abandoned daughter from a relationship as a student in England, one could feel that yearning of a father. May the old fellow, who liked his drink, his stray dog and many such strays, find peace where ever he is today.

Requiscat in pace - Shri Shanmugham

Udal mannirkku, uyir thamizhikku
Ithai urakkacholvom ulagirkku

Vairamuthu’s from the movie Iruvar would have remained just lines if not for Sweet Uncle’s influence in my life. Any attempt to translate the lines into English would be a vain effort in conveying what it means. I was homeschooled to read and write Tamil, my Father was my Guru. He taught me the alphabets and how they were strung together to form words and how words lined up together to make sentences. However I owe it to Sweet Uncle for sowing the seed of love for Tamil in me, literature, poetry, movies and culture.

Shri Shanmugham, an employee of the erstwhile Cheran Transport Corporation, anointed Sweet Uncle by some cousins and workers of a press my Father used to own in the late 70’s. He never used to come without a box of Nellai Lala sweets when he came visiting and hence the name. I’ve known him all my life. He was a noble person who sometimes came across as a trite impatient at the world and it’s machinations.

His knowledge was vast & varied, he could regale anyone with stories about the Dravidian movement, hollywood movies, trade unions, Clint Eastwood, Bud Spencer, MGR, Shivaji, Gregory Peck, Omar Sharief, Kannadasan or Kalki. My childhood is replete with movies he’s taken me along, the best being Thevar Magan, which was a bit too violent when I saw it, but later was a movie that moved me by the sheer power of the actors on screen.

He wasn’t my classmate or playmate. More than 40 years separated us but that didn’t stop us from being friends.  My brother was ever his darling, affectionately called Renadi and pampered to no end. The distance kid bro took a walk with him in the Nilgiris when they went to attend Aunt’s wedding is a story he could narrate any day not to mention another detail around bro wanting to take a piss.

Sweet Uncle was a rare human being who was moved by human sorrow. He was a firm believer in the God and some saints, he was truly pluralistic in his religious outlook. His cycle was his prized possession and I vividly remember it took me many years to be able to get access to ride it. He was a collector, of books, magazines, paper cuttings and things like that. Sweet Uncle and Athai liked to serve food, to be kind and hospitable and no visit to their house was complete without more than a full stomach and heart.

As someone who urged me to read Kalki, more specifically Ponniyin Selvan, I owe it to him for having earned now the ability to appreciate Tamil and the vast literature that fills it. He could narrate a kural for any situation you ask. He could talk about the classic movies from the black and white era. I could never get him to say anything nice about the modern Tamil film music that I was exposed to, yet he had a liking for Kaviarasu but Kannadasan was his all time favourite.

The past few years have been harsh after been confined to the house all day and the loss of the grandson he doted so much on, life took a bitter turn. He recently was shifted back from the hospital to house after breaking a bone in the leg. This afternoon was a rude shock with the news coming in about his sad demise and a wave of images play in my head. Every single incident between us from the past. I on my part wasn’t able to make time for him as much as I would want and an impending change in the days ahead was going to help in that front but destiny had other plans.

RIP Sweet Uncle.

Inru un rojapoo mugathil muthamida ninaikiren,mudiyavillai
Mutti varum kanneerai moodivida ninaikiren, mudiyavillai
Poivaa nanba, poivaa
Un pakkathil enakkum oru padukkai virithu vei
Yendraenum orunaal unarugil naan varuvaen

*The lines above are Kaviarasu Vairamuthu’s from the movie Iruvar

Happy birthday - Roy J George

Dearest RJG,

I’ve asked you many things and you have done each of them for me. I’ve spoken to you about many things and you’ve been the best listener I’ve had in my life. There’s a lot we haven’t spoken, we exchanged those amongst us through silence. I’m sure you’d remember the day I was born. When I was a toddler you’d always keep saying “Kuttan give me a kiss” and move your cheeks away till I can’t lean any further. I do that with your daughter’s today, it looks funny to you, I enjoy every moment I spend with them. History repeats !

Do you remember the first cricket bat you had? It was “SYMONDS” and do you remember how you used to stoop and lean while facing a bowler exactly like Krishnamachari Srikkanth. During my school days your commentaries about West Indian bowlers and batsmen were the one’s that kept us hooked to the early morning matches on DD. I vividly remember all the night’s you’d land up our doorstep in Coimbatore and leave by the Eratupetta bus the next evening.

While in Muvattupuzha or Avoly all the cricket matches I and Kanja have been spectators are very fresh in memory. We were barely as tall as the stumps back then and were allowed to bat. We’ve watched umpteen movies on rented video cassette players. One night we even drove an OMNI into a stream, parked the car in the middle of the stream and washed it. I’ve never seen Ammachi go wild except when you ask her permission to watch a movie and your skills in getting her consent to take us to Latha to watch a movie are incomparable.

The visit to Newman college in Thodupuzha to meet Sr. Kunjuorshi Ammayee and all the young women there who’d line up to take a look at you were copied later in Minsara Kanavu with Aravind Swami playing the lead role. Your anti-establishment stance in Nirmala College and later Rajagiri College but still being a good guy to the Teachers was a skill any student would give one hand and one leg to possess. Did you have an iota of idea of where the MSW from Rajagiri would take you when you passed out of college in the late 80’s?

After you moved to the North we did meet up in Delhi every summer holiday. After diploma Sabarish joined us once on a trip to Delhi and he used to say that he had the time of his life in your and Josthy’s company. Every person I’ve known who knows you holds you in such high regard – James, Ravi, Ganesh, Sam, Timmy, Hari, Stanley, Pradeep and the list goes on. There’s hardly anyone I’ve known who isn’t in awe of your down to earth nature and the incredibly humble air you carry around yourself.

Do you remember the first road trip you did from Madras to Coimbatore when I came down the previous night to do the driving? It’s another matter that we ended up doing many such trips all the way up to the last trip we did to Vailankanni in August 2009 last year. What about “CHINATOWN”? Do you know what we ordered the first time we went there? Soup and chicken lollipop, and that’s because you had very limited pocket money as a student those days. We even took Mia to this place once and she loved it. Kanja and I went back to this place last year before he left India but these chaps don’t seem to open anymore.

Do you remember that ill-fated night when Ammachi left this world and you drove down from Madras and I took over from Coimbatore? Do you still remember how close the tanker lorry came in front of you and Kanja before Kanja swerved to the side and avoided a head on collision? “Kanja is a super driver, if not for his reflex we’d all have been hit” is what you said when you got down from the mangled vehicle. How could you remain so cool, calm and composed?

How many times we’ve have discussed prospective business opportunities? You even served a deadline to us: April 2009, and we decided to extend that for a little time more considering the volatile nature of certain things in our personal lives. You persuaded me to get married and settle down but not once did you try to give me a sermon about it.

There’s a T-shirt with GEO written on it which I haven’t worn till now, I got that from you in June and I intend to keep it that way for a while. Our visits to Burma Bazaar, the DVDs we bought, the music system we installed, the road trips we did, all the tech doubts you asked me, the blackberry usage training I gave you, the endless talks we had about AR Rahman, the way you enjoyed Malayalam movies and some Tamil movies, your devotion towards Mother Mary, the way you adore Mia & Mishma, the way you call Josthy “Kuttu” and enjoy it when I mimic it, the way you and Kanja discussed HR practices (as someone from an alien background I used to listen with amazement at the ideas you two shared), the books you read, the course you did with IIM-A, I can go on and on about every little thing that inspires me however I can’t write everything in one big post here. Like our real lives we’ll leave most of it un-exchanged verbally and sync at the levels of our soul, what else can you call the way we connect?

I hope you get a sense of what I’m trying to convey, if you can’t then nobody one else in this world can. Here’s wishing you a happy birthday. Don’t worry about things back home, everyone is ok. Mia & Mishma are doing well in their studies, Josthy’s a star and effortlessly seems to juggle all her responsibilities efficiently. This year I’ll miss not being able to wish you in person; I’ll miss not getting a treat and not going to Church with you.Hhowever our time to catch up will come. Do keep an eye out for us and tons of prayers.

Yours lovingly,

Kuttan (HJG)

19^th Jan 2010

How far can you go?

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, this picture is the defining image of the relationship I shared with Roy J George, a brother of sorts. He was there in the hospital when I was born and I was there in the hospital when he died. He carried me from my Mother’s care when my life started and I carried him back to his Mother when his life had come to an end. 

I can’t describe how it feels inside me to be gazing at this moment, to look ahead and stare at a vacuum of uncertainty, a void of nothingness. Who will talk sense to me when I meander? Who will I try to emulate? I cannot believe that he is no more, I cannot accept that he’s left to be cared for by God and his chosen angels. I can’t simply brush this off as a stroke of ill luck, destiny.

His was not an age to die, his was an age to achieve and he did achieve a lot. Laurels from his fraternity, continual education, the best Father the kids could have and most importantly the most humble, humane and emphatic human being I have ever known. I won’t say I miss you, you know how much I do. Till destiny brings us together again, keep watching over me my treasured friend and get the angels to guide my thoughts, actions and words. 

There’s one place you always were, are and will be and no one can EVER steal you from there from me, not even destiny.

Requiescat in pace - Herbert Roy Boother

Herbert Roy Boother or Uncle Roy as he was known among friends breathed his last today in Asokan Hospital, Coimbatore. An accomplished bass guitarist with a keen ear for music, Uncle Roy was one of the rare people who'd make you instantly comfortable. He was our worst critic when we used to play in the Church. I vividly remember seeing him stand in the last rows closely following the music that we used to play, I used to loathe the thought of getting feedback because we sucked big time with our music and he was not a person to mince words. 

The honest and genuine feedback he always shared was a motivation to do better. I was even fortunate to jam with him, I remember practising carols for Christmas when he offered to play the bass. It was an opportunity too good but at the same time scary because here was a person you looked up to musically who was offering to play with you. We did jam together and Uncle wasn't exactly pleased with the music we did then but he never gave up on us.

I can't seem to nail the correct date but it was during Easter of 2002 that Uncle Roy suggested that we play a full drum set in the Church. We went to a friend of his and brought back a bass, snare, cymbals, hi-hat and a high, mid & low tom. Sam was supposed to play it but couldn't due to some last minute compulsions. The cover we did of 'More love, more power' sung by Stanley was appreciated by Uncle who used to be amazed at times at how a computer can make many things easier. 

Uncle Roy was also a known face in the Coimbatore orchestra circuit. He used to play bass guitar and he enjoyed it so much that you could see him completely immersed in his music when he was on stage. He sounded like a bass guitar too, the baritone voice he had still rings in my ears. I used to be a regular for tea in his house till a couple of years ago and I can't say how much thankful I've been for the hospitality of the Boother family. After getting a job I've never been able to visit them as regularly as I could when I was a student. 

Stanley's been a close friend from school and we recently met when he visited India for Christmas. The last couple of years have been demanding on Uncle with his usual movements restricted by illness causing him to visit a hospital more than often. Uncle Roy is survived by Aunty Felis, Stanley and his sister Geena. The void he leaves can never be filled and we all join the family is spirit to share the pain. May God grant peace to his soul.

Requiescat in pace - H Sridhar

The demise of H Sridhar has come as a rude shock to all fans of Indian music, South Indian in particular. Winner of 4 national awards for Mahanadhi, Dil Se, Lagaan & Kannathil Muththamittal, H Sridhar was one of those rare breed of sound engineers who were trained in music too. Born on 31st Mar 1960, HS was just 48 yrs old when his end came. I read on the internet that he returned back home at 2 AM after working on the soundtrack of 'Ghajini' and didn't wake up from his sleep. The doctors declared him dead around 1000 AM and the reason was attributed as a cardiac arrest.

South Indians in particular are known to look out for names of technicians and the name of H Sridhar as Sound Designer / Sound Engineer / DTS mix was a sure fire indication of top notch sound mix on multichannel soundtracks. Media Artists, an organisation which pioneered the use of DTS as movie soundtrack formats, was H Sridhar's main umbrella. H Sridhar has also mixed / engineered almost all of AR Rahman's soundtracks. It's simply no surprise that out of the 4 national awards he has won, the music for 3 were scored by AR Rahman.

We have all the technology one would need to create a near perfect sound for CD / DVD, HS belonged to an era that had to work hard at achieving that. It's probably from there that the sense of achieving higher things would have imbibed into his system, every movie mixed by him had his stamp on it. His presence will surely be missed by the industry, DTS technologies owes it's success in India majorly to Real Image and H Sridhar who worked to create some of the best software in DTS in our times.

# All pics used in this post are from KJ Singh's collection and permission is awaited for using this here. Content will be removed if objection is raised by the owner.

Coming of age

He was always the 'little one', perceived as irresponsible, indisciplined and always at loggerheads with the norm. Being younger comes with a price tag, on one hand one get's pampered and mollycoddled for being the last one and on the other there's a huge baggage of being compared to the one that is elder. He wasn't bogged down by this baggage too much but I do know instances where he'd have lost his nerve every once in a while for being compared to the elder and expected to do things like the elder did, not the the elder was a paradigm of 'how to be'.

Last Saturday over dinner he spoke from heart about what he wanted to do with his life. He conjured up and painted this vision of a successful business and how he wanted to go about executing it. There was a serious dialogue about how to motivate the staff, what the ambience should be and where the core market was. I sat in amazement listening to all this talk because he's always been my sweetheart, the one I always could bank on and despite the disagreements we seem to have from time to time, as we grow older it's tends to get a little more, I saw the man in him maybe the first time. He wasn't my kid brother anymore, here was a fountain bursting with ideas ready to challenge and conquer the world.

I hope he has the strength, perseverance, determination and grit to pursue his dreams with passion and I hope to be around as a partner, wellwisher and above all 'his brother' to share or bask in the limelight.

Champion of human freedom

Pope John Paul II, the most charismatic and deft leader in the Catholic church's recent history left this world late night yesterday in Vatican City, Vatican. By far the most orthodox and conservative world leader in today's progressive and open world, he was still revered and respected by billions. The most travelled Pope, he's been to 130 countries multiple times, made his final journey into another world. The Catholic Church in his death has lost a strong personality and once energetic leader who until a couple of years ago was the most vociferous voice against abortion, spoke about upholding the dignity of every human beings life who was affected severly by Parkinsons disease in the past couple of years.

I vividly remember seeing him in Marina Beach, Madras (now Chennai) in the late eighties when he came to India the first time. Pope John Paul II will remain dearest to all those who loved peace in this world, may God give rest to his soul. We'll miss you Holy Father especially your guidance in issues where the world is heading into a dangerous direction. The Pope's life is best summarised here.