Black Sunday...
May 4th 2007, 2:00 PM
"Saar. yeththini?"
"Naalu (4)".
"muppadhu aruvadhu (30 60)"
"kudunga (Done)"
May 6th 2007, 10:45 AM
"Saar. Yethini?"
"yettu (8)".
"ortharukku nooru (100 for 1)"
"yezhu kudunga (Give me 7)"
Fade Out.
Inbetweengap presents...
Black Sunday
A second viewing of Chennai 600028 on Friday with J, Vatsa and Momo cost us 60 each for tickets that actually cost 30 apiece. Never mind. More the norm these days, with people giving up almost anything for the airconditioned confines in the "ugli-ly" hot afternoons.
My peripa's son was getting married near Tirupathi, so off I went in that Qualis, with 8 others who collectively averaged around 60 years of age. Ilayaraja - though in the 60+ bracket himself - kept me much better company on my ipod, and all was well.
After the marriage that was attended by all of some 45 guests, both bride and groom families combined, a visit to the nearby temple at ThiruchaaNoor was last in the agenda.
The temple is apparently at its crowded best on ripe sunday afternoons, and we entered to find a long queue that said "Free Darshan Queue" (with Darshan being spelt Darsan) and another couple of lines that said Rs. 40 Special Queue and Rs. 200 Kumkumarchana Queue. Apparently the Rs. 200 was for 2 people, but whatever.
Deciding we had no time for the long "free" queue, and having entered without bothering to buy tickets (because of the queues in front of the ticket counters), we were left scratching our untonsured heads to gory glory..
When my athimber led a 'broker' aside and struck a deal to get all of us in for a 100 bucks apiece, the athais and perimaas were all but limping for joy, for want of a fit pair of legs...
Somehow the story of the multiple queues reminded me of Maayakkannaadi , and to me, something didn't sound right.
"Go ahead, you seven. I am NOT entering the sannidhi with black tickets. I'll much rather stay out. There are lots of posters around, and they'll do..."
Interrupting a barrage of disapproving remarks from my athimber, my chinna athai managed to give me a silent pat on the back. And haha, I felt like a grown up!!
As if that was not enough, that precise moment, the Utsava PerumaaL, which is the deity that's taken out of the sannidhi on a procession appeared round the corner, carried mightily by 8 young men...
My athai turned to look at me.
"Onakkaaga dhaan da vandhirukkaar avare..."
I looked away and smiled to myself :-)
PS :: I decide not to think about the ethical so-called-dilemma issues in both situations. Period.
"Saar. yeththini?"
"Naalu (4)".
"muppadhu aruvadhu (30 60)"
"kudunga (Done)"
May 6th 2007, 10:45 AM
"Saar. Yethini?"
"yettu (8)".
"ortharukku nooru (100 for 1)"
"yezhu kudunga (Give me 7)"
Fade Out.
Inbetweengap presents...
Black Sunday
A second viewing of Chennai 600028 on Friday with J, Vatsa and Momo cost us 60 each for tickets that actually cost 30 apiece. Never mind. More the norm these days, with people giving up almost anything for the airconditioned confines in the "ugli-ly" hot afternoons.
My peripa's son was getting married near Tirupathi, so off I went in that Qualis, with 8 others who collectively averaged around 60 years of age. Ilayaraja - though in the 60+ bracket himself - kept me much better company on my ipod, and all was well.
After the marriage that was attended by all of some 45 guests, both bride and groom families combined, a visit to the nearby temple at ThiruchaaNoor was last in the agenda.
The temple is apparently at its crowded best on ripe sunday afternoons, and we entered to find a long queue that said "Free Darshan Queue" (with Darshan being spelt Darsan) and another couple of lines that said Rs. 40 Special Queue and Rs. 200 Kumkumarchana Queue. Apparently the Rs. 200 was for 2 people, but whatever.
Deciding we had no time for the long "free" queue, and having entered without bothering to buy tickets (because of the queues in front of the ticket counters), we were left scratching our untonsured heads to gory glory..
When my athimber led a 'broker' aside and struck a deal to get all of us in for a 100 bucks apiece, the athais and perimaas were all but limping for joy, for want of a fit pair of legs...
Somehow the story of the multiple queues reminded me of Maayakkannaadi , and to me, something didn't sound right.
"Go ahead, you seven. I am NOT entering the sannidhi with black tickets. I'll much rather stay out. There are lots of posters around, and they'll do..."
Interrupting a barrage of disapproving remarks from my athimber, my chinna athai managed to give me a silent pat on the back. And haha, I felt like a grown up!!
As if that was not enough, that precise moment, the Utsava PerumaaL, which is the deity that's taken out of the sannidhi on a procession appeared round the corner, carried mightily by 8 young men...
My athai turned to look at me.
"Onakkaaga dhaan da vandhirukkaar avare..."
I looked away and smiled to myself :-)
PS :: I decide not to think about the ethical so-called-dilemma issues in both situations. Period.
posted by Girish at 9:14 AM
5 comments
