Sripathi Panditaradhyula Balasubramaniyam

It is quite unbelievable that the man has been singing in films for 44 years now.
44 years!
We heard him live at Shanmukhananda hall yesterday, and sure enough, every thing is still intact. The typical butter-coated mushiness, the sudden upsurge of manly energy, the inevitable laugh in the middle of a line, the Telugu-sounding English, the immeasurable love for Ilayaraja, the humility to confess to his mistakes on stage, et al. Overall, delightfully pleasant!
After a 5-minute long monologue on stage which started off with "Music is an ocean.. (yeah, you get the drift)" and ended with "... and so I will make mistakes, it is my right, and you guys have every right to excuse me...", he jumped straight into Ulaa pOgum neram.. kanaa kaaNume.., the first in a long list of nostalgic numbers, mostly Ilayaraja's, much to my delight! A lot of old classics followed with the occasional smattering of Telugu (Sankaraaaa!) and Malayalam numbers.
It was quite mind-boggling to hear him say things like "When I recorded this song in 1969..." and the likes. Insane achievement, I must confess, still drawing the crowd he drew yesterday - in a city that has not even heard 40,000 of the 45,000 songs he has sung till date - and still sounding exactly how he sounded at least 10 years ago. Hats off.
Putting together Sundari Kannaal oru sedhi on stage was goosebumpy. Credit to the 9-man orchestra for pulling off the wild number. SPB kicked off the song with the typical words of a south indian music lover in bombay, "Listen to this song, and you might understand why Ilayaraja is a genuis of the rarest kind". Words that I have felt and said to the infinite number of unfortunates who have not lived out their 20s listening to Raja's insanities.
Other notable singers joining SPB were Goutam, Nikhil Mathew, Mrs & Mr. Anoop Sankar and Ananthu. Special mention to Ananthu, who I think is as talented a singer as anyone I have heard. His Pramadhavanam was remarkably perfect, and his Ponnondru Kanden with Goutam was a delight. I dearly wished Viji would sing a duet with SPB, but time constraints dictated otherwise. That Anoop managed to wrap up with his own medley of Raja songs even in an SPB show was outstanding and a simple reminder of his well-deserved growth in this industry, and very reminiscent of the days when his medley at the end of our shows were his signature!
Thanks to Anoop and Viji for the complimentary tickets! Awesome evening guys!

How I met Simran...

As has almost become the norm, here is something that happened to me during another of my rushed official trips to Chennai.
Surprisingly early to check in for a change, I handed my ticket printout and photo ID to the girl on the other side of the Kingfisher counter at Chennai airport. As the girl wished me a good evening, the girl standing in the adjacent queue - also holding a Kingfisher ticket - turned.
WOW.
She was carrying a hardbound copy of a book I had not heard of. Respect.
"Aisle or window, sir?", the girl behind the counter interrupted.
"Can you put me on the seat next to her?", I was almost tempted to say. I didn't. Instead, I shrugged, subtly trying to look indifferent, and hence cool. I noted though, that the girl - lets randomly call her Simran or Simi for want of overusing the word girl - turned to see what my preference was. She chose a window herself, loud enough for me to hear.
Simi finished her formalities and headed for security. Now, when I caught up, there were some 9 people between the two of us in the line, and she branched off to the female line leaving me wondering why there was a special line for women.
I looked around to engage myself in something remotely not her, but some commotion on her side made me look in her direction again. And she looked at me. Again. Interesting.
Some guy had raised a stink about something he had in his checkin baggage, and she seemed a trifle pained. She looked at me -AGAIN! - and her expression said it all. I almost reached out and comforted her with a "Oh never mind.. Some people never obey the rules" level comforting pat on the back. But did not. Instead, I simply gave her a blank stare in return. Cool, still.
Simi went behind the screen that they had for frisking the women, and the officer seemed to have taken a liking to her. Simi did not seem to enjoy that and turned again in my direction with a longing expression that yet again yearned for liberation from this physical trauma (her face was above the screen, and I could see. Or she could, vice versa...). Blank Stare from me. With a hint of withdrawal. Cool max!
She got done in a minute, and chose a seat near the front of the departure lounge. The seat next to her was empty. Gotcha!
I strolled into the departure lounge and casually looked up at the screen showing the departure schedules and gates, carefully appearing not too eager to go find the seat next to her.
The screen said our flight was on time - damn! - only hope now being our seats were together on the flight too. My eye moved to the right of the screen. An arrow pointed upwards, telling me that I had to move to the lounge on the first floor. WHAT!?!?
I turned and looked straight at her, without even considering the possibility that she might be looking in my direction. She was. Embarrassed and exhilarated at the same time, I dropped my gaze, and reluctantly made for the escalator, walking slower than Inzamam's walk back to the pavilion.
The escalator seemed to be in a hurry, and whisked me upwards, while I turned back - for one last time - to see what Simi was upto. That she held my gaze all the way to the top of the escalator was one of the defining moments and possibly the crowning glory of my late twenties life.
Life on the first floor seemed slow and pointless. I called Divya to tell her how my blossoming romance had been rudely cut short by the powers that be. She wished me luck, and asked me to not lose hope yet. Encouraged, I kept turning back to see if the escalator would bring the only good thing about that day back into my life. It did not.
"Kingfisher airlines announces the departure of its flight IT 3184 to Mumbai...". Damn!
Finding my seat next to a balding, obese uncle - not unusual at all - was the last straw.
The surprisingly disheveled air hostess offered me water, which i rather despondently drank down before i dozed off, obviously not noticing her name tag, that said "Simran".
And we soared skyward, and back to Bombay.

Life though, is back to being good, at home with wife.
Thanks for all your wishes and prayers, if any.