Leening's Manipur, Our Manipur...

Request: Please read the whole post before you make any judgment about me. :) I love Manipur!

Leening Meetei is my classmate at University of Hyderabad. If there is one word that describes him, it's Manipur; he eats, drinks and sleeps Manipur. When a research or writing assignment is given in class, no effort needs to be taken to guess what Leening would do. It would invariably be about Manipur.

I have very often been amused by this. I am a very proud Malayali; but I do not take up Kerala for every damn thing like he does. I have often thought; why such forceful assertion?

The other day, Leening was doing rounds in the class with a signature petition. It was addressed to the President of India against the fake encounter killing that happened in Manipur recently that took the life of Chonkham Sanjit (27). My turn was over and I was casually watching him. Then, I saw something in his eyes that I had never seen before - some amount of passion and a lot more of pain.

That's when I started thinking more deeply than I used to. Earlier, my thought process was something like this. 'With the very little knowledge I have of this huge issue, I know that most North Eastern states demand autonomy. Yet, there is a North East quota in my university (and probably in many other places in the country) and they are all duly filled. I mean, if you want to get separated from this country, why use the infrastructure here? That's sheer selfishness! If you want to take advantage of the facilities here, might as well stick to the sovereignty of the country!'

The pain in his eyes told me that he and I were different. I was born in a part of India that, post independence, has not witnessed a massive conflict of any sort. A place where democracy is probably at its best with everyone taking their right to life and freedom of expression for granted. I have hardly seen a person from the Armed Forces at work in the part of Kerala that I live. My perception of violence, freedom, civic sense and security is different because of this.

Leening, on the other hand, has probably spent his childhood in fear. To quote Tehelka, "Life in Manipur is like a lottery. You are alive because you are lucky." He did most of his education in Andhra Pradesh because the situation in his state was not condusive. He hasn't seen his family for months together now, because conflicts are consistent back home and travelling during our last vacation would have been dangerous. He has probably witnessed the death of a relative in the hands of people who are supposed to ensure security - the Armed Forces.

I have now realised that a comparison between him and me is futile; we are so darn different. It is because of the North East quota, that I used to detest, that Leening is being able to give wings to his dreams. It is because of his belief that change is possible in this country, despite all the atrocities that his state is witnessing, that he is still going on with that signature campaign. If he does not deserve to be a citizen of this India as comfortably as I am, with all the security that I was born with and am used to, then who else is this India for?

Many North Eastern Indians migrate to other parts of India in the hope of a better life. But is it any different for them? Armed Forces may not attack or kill without a reason, but what about civilians? They attack with detesting looks that speak on the lines of "Why the hell have you come over to our place?"

Just the other day, I was comfortably seated on an APSRTC bus. A North Eastern family comprising a young man, an almost-girl-like woman and their tiny kids got into the bus. The mother clad in a saree was a far cry from the stylish and sleek looking North Eastern girls I have seen on my campus, I thought. I noticed that people maintained a safe distance from the rough looking short man as though he was a terrorist, an intruder.

As the kids dozed off leaning to their mother's shoulder, I kept on gazing much to the discomfort of that woman. I was thinking how similar these four human beings were to any other random family in that bus. Yet, how different! It wouldn't be easy for them to get a house to live or a job to earn a living. The struggle to garner an identity was clearly visible on all the four faces. Even if they wanted to think of themselves as Indians, we the 'original Indians' would not let them do so.

Unity in Diversity is probably the most overrated myth that is taught in schools. You will grow up to learn that equality, let alone unity, is still a dream for many in this country.

Which is why I love you Debo! I love you for the fact that you are one of the few people who can think broad enough to assume a North Eastern Indian as close to you as I would assume a Malayali to me.

Birthday Recollections..

I was making a quick flashback journey through the past year, now that I am a year older; only to realise with joy that it had been phenomenal for me! Some highlights:

I quit the cushy job at Google after much deliberation. While some dear ones (read my parents) were happy that I finally did it, some others (mostly friends) made a verdict that I am insane. Who else will leave a job with Google for God's sake, right? Well, stories I am hearing these days say that lots of people actually do. I was one of the early ones to take the tough decision before the management did it! I miss the pancakes at breakfast and the almost-free massages at Tangerine Spa; but it is okay.

I joined a public university for my Masters. People uh-uh ed and advised me against it. Most of them wondered why I did not consider greener pastures like the USA and the UK when I could have. However, I stayed unperturbed and stuck to my plans. I was always sure that my country's infrastructure and facilities are enough for me to succeed in life. If I choose to make use of it, it will definitely come to my use. Believe me, it is happening. I shall now treasure that derogatory expression on the face an HR guy from Google (also my friend) to cheer me up a tad bit more when I graduate with flying colours next year. :)

I made the right decision while choosing between the two Central Universities in Hyderabad. The rank list at English and Foreign Languages University which had my name beaming on the top and the one at University of Hyderabad which had me as Number 2 on the waiting list for the stream of my choice, suggested the obvious. Being the attention seeker that I am, I wanted to study in the institution where I would be the apple of the eye from the beginning. Thankfully, I did not succumb to that dumb thought. I asked innumerable people what the right decision would be; sometimes to the level of annoying some patient friends. I took admission at EFLU since that happened first and I was not sure if UoH would graduate me from the waiting list to the confirmed list. Finally, while waiting for the admission week at UoH, I decided to bid good bye to my ego and arrive at a sensible conclusion. Confirmation of the stream I wanted (Print & New Media) = UoH. Allocation of what UoH thinks I fit into (Advertising & PR) = EFLU. As always, God showed me the right path and gave me the right opportunity - to study in the country's second best university, in the stream I wanted.

I figured in the top scorer list in both the semesters. In the first semester if I came second, God was gracious enough to promote me to the first position in the second semester. I always knew that pursuing one's passion in the form of education works wonders. Joining the rat race and crumbling later is so easy. But figuring out what you want from life and struggling a little to get it is so rewarding.

I got a cool new bunch of friends. All the girls are younger than me and most of the boys are older than me. I just meant that it is a group with a lot of age diversity contrary to my scary thought before joining that I would be the granny in the class because of the two year sabbatical I took from studies. So what if I am the eldest girl in the class? I also have the maturity that comes along with age and most of the younger ones respect me for that. Quite an ego boost for a Leo, you see!

I became an RJ doing shows in Hindi at Hyderabad! Who would have thought that all the K serials I watched meticulously in Kerala would prove beneficial one day? The intelligentsia of this nation may slam Ekta Kapoor for dishing out mindless soaps (Dr. Vinod Pavarala says though that there is nothing called mindless television; everyone finds some meaning in everything). But I am eternally grateful to her for replenishing my dry Hindi resources from a Kerala state syllabus school with free flowing saral Hindi through Kutumb, Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi and what not! Even if it was pyaar-zindagi-rishta-vishwas-bandhan ki baatein, I learnt the language there, and I flaunt it today to earn some pocket money. Thanks to Akkachi too for inculcating the interest for Rashtrabhasha in me through a culture of serial and film watching at home.

I became an avid blogger. Having joined a course in Print and New Media, I figured that I better do it rather than feel sorry later. My blog has now become a baby of mine who I had delivered prematurely and left unattended. I rediscovered the joy of this particular motherhood, also because of the lovely child Naags has raised.

I spoke to Achan direct dil se about something very special. I have a history of hysteric ways of expression of love for Amma; with Achan, I have always been subtle. But when it came to talking about something very very important, I thought Achan would lend a keener ear. Amma, of course, joined the discussion soon.

For all these and much more, God, I raise a toast to you.

PS: I also got a fantastic haircut done. I was so impressed with the salon and the lady who did it, I indulged in a hair spa experience as well. Lots of 'wellwishers' told me that I look a lot younger with the open, layered hair. In turn, I also take better care of it.

The Joys of eBay Shopping!

I do not remember when I discovered the khazana of possibilities - eBay.

A couple of years ago, when my daily bread from Google depended on how many ads I reviewed a day, the word eBay had a different connotation. Easy-to-review ads which boost productivity, performance review, salary proposition. etc. as much as wolves in jackal skin because they have hidden errors that do not catch the eye.

From that time, I always looked at it as a 'US thing.' The generalisation that we Indians prefer to do shopping physically and that online shopping is for lazy people in the West added to the complication of credit/debit card fraud - eBay was never a part of my thought process.

And then one day, I saw an advertisement of eBay.in - eBay with an Indian twist. Being the dream come true innovator I am (take a bow, Mr. Everett Rogers, you were absolutely right with your classification), I tried it out. A quick registration is all what I did in my first visit.

As if they read my middle class mind, eBay soon started sending me emails with luring offers. Yes, their strategy has worked and I have started online shopping!

A month back, I got this email alert of a Bajaj DVD Player with USB coming at a discounted price of Rs. 1700. There was another offer running simultaneously where eBay was giving away free gifts for all purchases above Rs. 1000. Bling bling went the red alarms and I remembered my friend who had mentioned dreaming a DVD player, but had a tight budget. A quick check with the friend and thirty minutes later, I had paid for it through PaisaPay! My friend got a DVD player within the budget and and it brought along the joy of a free 2Gb pen drive..

I am sure the technology employed at eBay sensed a potential ransacker sitting in Hyderabad and browsing their stuff. The very next week, I got another email saying flat Rs. 250 off on any item. Five minutes later, eyelashes fluttering, I was innocently ordering a 2GB pen drive for Rs. 120. My sense of logic must have been really kaput considering I had gotten hold of this less than two months ago. But then, you can't carry such a darling gizmo anywhere and everywhere, right? For example, using it to carry a silly file that needs to be printed out would be a criminal offence. So that's the logic - my hard disk is for my movies, music and moments only.

Today, it happened again. Another email with the same offer of flat Rs. 250 off. My grey cells went into a revolution and finally I figured it. Books! Mad browsing for an hour followed by one purchase - The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho for Rs. 15.

All the uninitiated - I would like to enlighten you about the way these offers work. They send you a promo code in an email and you have to paste it in the final step of payment. After The Alchemist, I zeroed in on another one called My Friend Sancho by blogstar Amit Varma and frantically went on to pay just Rs. 5 for it - but alas! The code was already used - for Paulo Coelho, of course.

Disappointed, I tried creating another id to see if that will work. It did not. In utter dismay, I realized that it is a unique code and works only for one user, for one transaction.

No, I did not give up. I added all my potential buys to my shopping cart. You know what I am doing right now? Keeping an eye on my inbox - to see when the next Rs. 250 promo comes, so that I can buy books for multiples of five rupees.

Credit card fraud - what is that? :P

A Facebook Message and the Memories it brought..

A message that came to me on Facebook this morning made me look behind - the paths of life that I crossed and reached where I am right now. That message was from Santoshettan, more familiar to Malayalis as Santosh Palee or Palee.

An eighteen year old with bright dreams of being in the limelight - that was me in a nutshell in 2003. It was also the time when Palee was reigning many a Malayali heart including mine with a program called Kairali On Demand. One of the many things I did to realize my dream was writing long letters to him with program ideas in the hope that he would just pick me to anchor them!

One day, that much awaited call came as well - to give a screen test. For me, hearing his voice across the line was an achievement in itself. He was an icon of sorts who encapsulated the ultimate media dream for me - someone who had to come on screen from behind by sheer coincidence and stayed on gloriously. The screen test was truly just a bonus.

I cannot imagine the nervousness I experienced that day. Probably, something I have never ever felt before or after, in my life - in that measure. I vividly remember his lady love being in the studio for the shoot of a program called Weekender. Of course, I did not know at that point that there was a love story going on. ;)

The screen test was totally uneventful. I was asked to perform an introduction for the program Mail A Scene. The otherwise ultra talkative, oversmart me just shrinked into a coy little thing with a puppy face in the great producer's presence. Needless to say, my performance was nowhere close to what I could have done and I don't even think he gave it a thought whether to take me aboard or not.

I thought, there goes my future in my dream channel into the dustbin with a silly piece of script I made.

I moved on, appeared for a screen test at Indiavision and did much much better this time. May be, because I cared much less if I would get through or not. And of course, Santoshettan was not there to distract!

I made it and I faced the camera for the first time for a programme there. Destiny had other plans though. Eleven months down the lane, I sensed another opportunity at Kairali with another producer. I wrote to him about my experience at Indiavision and I was on!

It indeed was a dream come true. Kairali had the most creative graphics team of all Malayalam channels at that point and my imagination knew no bounds about the riot of colours I would have for accompaniment on screen. Yet, somewhere inside, the sense of loss lingered that I did not become an anchor for a Palee programme.

Kairali became home to me soon. I bumped into him very frequently in the studio, yet continued to be star struck each time it happened. My producer was a good friend of Palee, so there was no dearth of insider news about Palee's life - professional and personal. In that way, I was in a much better place than most of his fans, even though I did not realize the anchor dream.

Life goes on. So did mine. I relocated to Hyderabad, much away from my media dreams, doing totally different things. Malayalam Television soon became a thing of past to me, something that I do not have access to even when I go back home, thanks to Kunjunni's addiction to Pogo.

But then, there is Facebook and orkut. Many lost media connections got revived especially on FB. Among them are Santoshettan of course and also Aroonz (Arun P G), a great graphics artist who did some of the most fantastic backdrops for me at Kairali. He is ready with his first movie work - Puthiya Mukham. Wish you the best, buddy!

Coming back to our hero, let me share the message he sent that made me take this walk down the memory lane - unabridged!

Two days before me and sree konny wr sitting tgthr for chilling.. ,me confessed to him that I cudnt recognised your talent at that time, or conveniently forgottn to uplift your softskills,due to the lack of a good prgrm which suits to your persona..I mean it..

Today I am really feelin proud bout you.. while walking thru d corridors of memories I can recollect those wonderful letters you wrote to me with poetic touches. "Ardramaanasam"... I used to call u like that... nywayz.. go ahead babes... my heartfelt best wishes to you....

When people say some dreams should reamain unfulfilled so that we feel the need to keep going, I usually disagree. Realising dreams is an extremely important thing for me. I think I just changed my mind. May be, some things should remain unachieved. God can keep watching, and based on your track record, can gift bigger and better blessings. Like the one I got today. :)

PS : Just in case you have not noticed, the name that Santoshettan gave me - I adopted it for life. My Internet persona Ardramaanasam owes someone a lot, you see! :)

Fighting for a Reason...

I had told you about my middle class mania last week, right? Please do not confuse that with what I am going to tell you. This one is not about money, it is all about my belief. (Thank you Uma, for this cool oneliner.)

Maximum Retail Price. We know that is the expanded form of MRP. We know that is the 'printed price' on most goods, and the price that we should 'go by' especially with regard to FMCGs.

But how many people actually check it on a regular basis? Forget the regularity, even from time to time? I know this depends on a lot of factors. One - the class that you belong to. If you drive around in a Merc, it is less than likely that you will go to a supermarket in person, let alone check prices. I am talking about an average Indian here - the Mango Indian as JK calls himself. Two - if the product in question is new to you or not. It is very likely that the Mango Indian will check what the price is if it is a new product - mostly by asking the shopkeeper 'kya daam hai,' 'ithinethra' etc. but sometimes otherwise too.

I don't own a Merc and I do my shopping myself. I am a Mango Indian who buys new things like Parle Golden Arc Pineapple-stuffed rolls and old, time tested things like Dove soaps. Yet, each time, every single time, I check the MRP religiously.

Take a look at these situations and answer in your mind, okay? Just so that you know where you stand in this test of mine.

• You are about to board a train for a long distance journey. You go to the nearby stall on your platform. You ask for a bottle of mineral water. Will you ask 'Kitna Hai' and pay what he says or check the MRP and pay the amount?
• You are returning home after dinner with your friends. The gang feels like having something sweet and cold down the throats. You stop the car at the first visible Kwality Walls/Amul guy on the road. A orders a Cornetto, B orders a Feast and you get a Chocobar. Will you ask 'Total kitna?' or check the MRP and do the math yourself?
• You are walking towards an office to get something done. You are dead tired and go to a pan shop to get a bottle of juice. Will you ask 'Kitna Hai' or check the MRP printed in feeble black on the glass bottle?

It is very likely that you answered either a Former to all or a Latter to all. If it is the former, have peace. 99% Indians belong to your tribe. If it is the latter, welcome aboard, you are a member of my club!

I have travelled long distances without a bottle of water because the stall owner said he wants fifteen for a Kinley water bottle when I gave him twelve – the printed MRP. I have given my favourite Amul Kulfi away, all upset and angry with the vendor who thought getting more than what’s printed is his birthright. I have rendered a 1.5 hour long Geet Gata Chal show on Rainbow FM exhausted and thirsty – just because the Panwallah outside All India Radio wanted 20 for the Minute Maid Pulpy Orange bottle that actually costs fifteen. All for my belief – that being able to buy things at MRP is my right as a citizen.

One could easily think that I suffered in each of those battles. But I have felt immensely proud of myself each time I stood and fought for my rights. Except for once, never has any vendor obliged and given me the stuff at MRP. But I still feel it is a battle won, because someone is questioning the wrong they are doing.

One could also feel sympathetic towards the vendor and tell me, “What’s wrong with you? Let the poor guy have a rupee extra.” My apologies there. If you need a bigger business margin, go for a business that offers you the same. For God’s sake, selling goods above their MRP is a legal offence. In a wave of sympathy, will you ignore a Panwallah selling micro drug packs and think let the dude make some money?

Until now, I have not been able to get hold of a Consumer Care number where I can report such cases. Soon, I will get that to ensure that the wrong is not just questioned, but overthrown by establishment of justice. Big words for a Kinley bottle at Rs. 12, an Amul Kulfi at Rs. 12, and a Minute Maid for Rs. 15, I know. But then, as I said in the beginning, it is not about the money, it is about my belief.

Middle Class Maniac - Me!

The characteristics attributed to middle classism are many. But I am dealing with only one right now. That’s regarding money, honey!!

I can recall umpteen incidents right from my school-going age until like day before yesterday when my friends labeled me ‘cheap,’ ‘stingy,’ and what not. All thanks to my nature of being extra cautious with money no matter which stage of life I was in – studying or working.

Take a sneak peak!

*I prefer bus to auto rickshaws. I developed a strong hate feeling for autos at Kottayam where they do not have meters unlike in bigger cities. Which means the driver’s word or price is the law and I cannot accept that. I always need a visible proof to the money that I am spending. Hyderabad autos of course have meters, but not all drivers turn them on. Some quote fancy prices and I walk away without even responding. At some other times, I bargain madly with the drivers to get a price that I think is fair. I might be doing this at the oddest time of the day (err, night) possible when another auto is not in the vicinity. Dangerous enough, huh? And then, there are buses that get you to your destination for 5 INR in the place of 50 INR in auto. So what if you have to walk 100m to get to the bus stop?

#And my friends go “But why? Why would you want to stand squeezed through a grueling experience with your face inside a smelly armpit?”

^But are they capable of comprehending the beauty of bus rides that let you enjoy a city from an elevated view? NO.

*I choose quantity over quality, especially with clothes. If you tell me I have a choice between four bright coloured simple cotton Kurtis from General Bazaar and one ultra elegant Biba Kurta from Hyderabad Central that costs more than all the other four put together, I will definitely go for the former.

#And my friends go “Thank God, everyone in this world is not like you. Otherwise there would not have been something called class.”

^But do they understand that having the variety of four colours and Kurtis is far more exciting than owning one single piece which you will soon be bored of? NO.

*Unless someone else who loves me a lot (read Achan) is booking the ticket, I always travel in sleeper class in Indian Railways. A three tier AC ticket in Sabari Express from Secunderabad to Kottayam costs 960 INR and in sleeper class it costs 400 INR. It is indeed a meager difference if you think about it. But when I think about it, I can save 500 INR and travel in the very same train and reach at the same time as the AC guys would. It’s not as if I live in a centrally air-conditioned home anyway.

#And my friend goes (not many know of this) “You are a freak.”

^But does he know that the view of nature and the feel of breeze compensates more than enough for the sweat particles you accumulate through the journey (as opposed to the sluggishness of oversleep that AC gives you)? NO.

*I hold the view that if friends go for a movie or dining together, everyone should share the expenses. This is even when it is a small group of two or three, even when it is a modest place where food/movie ticket does not cost much. In my roomie Richa’s words, I am a contri person (one who believes in contributing, apparently).

#And my friend goes “Yieeew! How can you be cheap enough to ask your friend for 40 bucks spent on French Fries?”

^But does she know of the glorious feeling that says ‘40 or 4000 does not matter, all my friends are equals.’ NO.

*I love the art of supermarket shopping and am a master at it. The mastery is over FMCG price watching. Let me explain. I take an article that is a potential buy, look at the packaging, check the price and net quantity, compare it with other brands on offer and decide which one is a better option. This also means that if Surf is available in a 450g pack (I hate the ‘non standard weight’ trick that companies have come up with to cheat consumers) and Ariel is available in, let’s say 650g packs, I actually stand there and do the math to find out the 50g price of each one. Sigh. Tedious, I know; but I do it nevertheless.

#Thank God, only I know this. :D

^But I myself know that this can be done only when I am shopping alone. Else, any person who potentially understands the calculations going on inside me could just murder me. YES.

I am sure you got a fair idea about the hard and fast middle class ideologies that I live by. Except one time, no comment from any friend has offended or hurt me (the exception obviously came from a girl friend in the quantity over quality instance). Guess why? I am proud of it, that’s why! I have grown up watching a simple living father and mother who pretty much led the same lifestyle when their salaries were in five digits and when it later turned to six digits. Achan still thinks it is a waste to spend more than a thousand rupees on a shirt. Amma still thinks there is no need to drive alone in a car and go to Kottayam town when she can ‘comfortably’ get into a ‘line’ bus and get back. Now, with such a set of parents, can I be any different?

This is not to say that I don’t have the greed to earn lots of money. My parents have never had that, but I do. I dream about a day when I have enough money to travel the globe and such other things. But when it comes to actually spending it, I think I will remain the middle class girl that I am and choose what is cheap. And you know what? I think I will still enjoy finer things of life. Which definition is not subjective anyway? My life, I define.

PS : The bit about Achan booking the ticket should not be misconstrued. That does not mean him paying for it. He pays anyways whether I book or he books. The point is when he books himself PHYSICALLY and I am not around, he makes sure I have some luxury. 

Hunting in the dark or dreaming big?

In my dictionary, boredom appears quite close to depression. That is somewhat the frame of mind that I am in, right now.

To give some background information, I am currently at my second internship with iridiuminteractive.com at Hyderabad. I joined just ten days back and I am already seething in agony. The lovely people here have done nothing gross unto me. But an ounce of homesickness garnished with ample amount of boredom and loneliness do the trick. I spent my longest vacation at home in May – June 2009 after I left Kerala in 2006 for greener pastures (known by the name Google, back then). Seven weeks of absolute glory being the mademoiselle spoilt me. Its remnants are still somewhere inside contributing to the pain I mentioned above.

Then, there is an emptiness that has encapsulated my university. Many students are still there; it is just the MA lot that is missing. Most of my friends have also come back from home for their respective internships. However, it is just *dry.* I do not know how to describe it any better. A cloud of sorrow just pours down on me as soon as I get back from work. A frustratingly slow computer at work and the four-change-marathon-auto/bus journey to and fro don’t help a bit.

Amidst all this madness, I have been thinking a lot about what I shall be doing after my Masters. Since this is just a year away, may be ‘the thinking’ is a right thing to do. But I have discovered that I am hunting in the dark. You know why? Because I am absolutely clueless as to what I will do.

I always knew I wanted to do a Masters in Communication because it is a discipline that fascinated me with the creativity that it comes packed with. I cannot be happier that I am doing it now, and also, from the second best university in the country. However, what after that? Is it an option to become what 99.9% people ask me when they hear about my course? “So, you’re gonna be a.. journalist.. I guess?” Frankly, I don’t want to be. An ad-person? A PR specialist? A television producer? A communication academician? Options are so many; but I have an answer in none.

My basic issue is that I cannot get comfortable with the idea of doing one job for my entire life. I also hate the temporality of most jobs – the 9 – 6 tag irritates me. I am all for working when there is work to do. But when there isn’t, one should not force me to sit and stare at a computer until clock ticks 6pm. The mention of a computer reminds me that two and a quarter years at Google convinced me that I am incapable to work with computers five days a week, twelve months a year. My fingers and hands just do not co-operate. The callus on my right index finger that has rendered it useless and another one forming on the middle finger due to overuse with mouse, just say the same thing. Two months of internship have reaffirmed this to me and I know that my right hand hates me from the way it refuses to budge.

Basically, my freedom is extremely important for me. The freedom to decide one morning that I don’t feel like it to go anywhere. The freedom to go on an unplanned holiday to Hampi to relive some good memories. The freedom to watch YouTube video and browse blogs whenever. The freedom to know that I am financially secure in spite of any indulgences. Sounds really tough a dream to materialise, right?

I may be hunting in the dark. Or may be, I am dreaming big. Time will give me the answer. And I am waiting patiently.

My Award on Kerala Film Awards Day!

No phenomenal achievement, may be. But I felt really good and I thought I should share it with you.

Amidst all the Kerala state award declaration frenzy yesterday, an advisor to the Manorama Online team informed my supervisor that a senior Manorama journalist from Thiruvananthapuram conveyed appreciation for an article I wrote two days back. He mentioned the same with the least excitement possible, but of course, that does not stop me from getting excited. For him, it was the usual grind - someone said something is good. But for me, it was a huge - just the right impetus to mint out more stories like I have been doing for some days now. It came at a time when I had got used to the fact that I am in an environment where people hardly take the effort to say 'that's been good.'

Writing is clearly more tedious than I thought when it becomes your job. :)

With the risk of sounding narcissistic, let me break another news. Life has been really good to me for some time now. It can't be justified if I don't acknowledge that, right? My second semester results were announced last week, and guess what, I am the topper! I least expected to be, so I am doubly happy.

By the way, please excuse the fact that the prediction in this piece went all wrong. It is Lal and not Mohanlal who won in the end. Blame it on media speculations! Nevertheless, go on and read it for my sake. ;)

See the other film award related stories that I penned:

Nalam Vattam Adoor
Vilapangalkkappuram Santosham
Kozhikkodan Chirikkoru Samsthana Award
Bhagyam Kondu Vanna Thirakkatha
Abhinaya Praveenyathinu Veendum Puraskaram
Chinthippikkunna Cinema
Nanmayulla Cinemayude Niranja Vijayam