...Anugraha

Margazhi season in Chennai is more than a time of year—it is an experience that unfolds like a well-loved ritual, blending devotion, music, learning, and community. The city slows down just enough to listen, as cool, misty mornings begin with kolams, temple bells, and the gentle beckoning of the sabhas/concert venues. Imagine waking up to the sound of the Suprabatham , hurrying to catch an auto, and heading straight to the sabha for a rich filter coffee, two soft, spongy idlis, and a crisp vadai. Notebook in hand, you settle into the first few rows to listen to lec-dems by esteemed vidwans, absorbing insights that deepen your understanding of ragas and compositions. You spot eminent musicians quietly seated in the audience—a rare and thrilling sight—before breaking at noon for lunch. Full banana-leaf meals are savored alongside animated post-lecdem decoding conversations, where music spills into words. With a full belly, you rush back for afternoon and evening concerts that leave both ...

The auto pulled up in front of a small provision shop. The quiet of the dawn was broken by the rumbling of the engine as it halted. The light was on in the shop, casting a bright glow in the otherwise dimly lit street. Colorful bags of Lays Chips were hanging, lazily waving in the morning breeze. Next to the shop, small but lively houses were lined up in two rows, forming almost a tunnel like appearance. Calling the space between the houses a road, would be too kind. The narrow strip hardly gave space for two people to walk side by side, yet large motorbikes stood parked precariously against the walls connecting the houses. Every house had one step under which a small groove was carved in to let excess water flow and drain. The steps themselves were decorated with intricate patterns painstakingly drawn in the morning light. Climbing out of the auto, the driver helped my father with the suitcases. Jammed in the middle of my carryon and my mother, I climbed out, eager to stre...

As we battle the chilly weather, I wanted to shine some light on an observation. My commute to work is incredibly tedious and long. It's not something that I fancy on a day where the temperature is cold enough to freeze boiling water. That being said, I realized while at home, staying warm, how much I missed the Good Mornings that I would hear not only at work, but also on the train. Every morning, rain or shine, when I walk to my desk, I am always greeted with a good morning from my peers. In turn, it is an automatic response for me to smile when returning the greeting. I end up smiling until I reach my desk and start working, which enables me to start my day in a good mood. On the train, the conductor, as he does his rounds for tickets says thank you to every single person as well as a good morning at every car. This not only wakes us all up, but also makes us subconsciously acknowledge that the morning is going to be "good". I've listened to many discussions...

Nearly every household in India will be eating kali and kootu today for lunch. It took me a lot of digging around to find what exactly the significance of Kali and Kootu is. When found the sweet anecdote, I couldn't resist sharing it!! So heres a story to go with your lunch today ;) Cedanar of Naukoor, a disciple of Paddinattu Adigal, used to eat only after feeding  Saiva devotees. Due to a constant bad weather, a bit like what we have now (yay snow :( ), he could not get together all the essentials for a proper meal. Thus, he had no option but to mix water with flour and prepare a mashed paste. Lord Siva understood his predicament. He wanted the people to know how sincere Cedanar's devotion was, thus, he disguised himself as a Siva devotee,visited Cendanar’s hut and enjoyed what was given to him as food. The following morning, temple attendants saw the premises scattered with the mashed paste. Lord Shiva had eaten the prasadam and it had created a mess within the templ...

"Nerupuda!" screamed the theater speakers. I looked around and saw this old mama snoring away. Next to him was an open murukku packet. He probably snuck it into the theater. Unfortunately, there were no more murukkus in it. It was a pitiful sight. Every where I turn, friendships, relationships and other ships are being questioned based on one's opinion of Kabali. I watched Kabali after reading all the reviews (sila vishayamlaam anubavichaathaan theriyum). Because I read the reviews, my expectation of the movie was severely lowered. I found myself enjoying the movie more than my family did. Many of the positive reviews that I read, claimed that people need to watch this movie as a director's film and not as a Rajni film. I like to think I tried to embody that. When we walked out of the theater, quite confused (You too, Tiger?!), my parents were karuchukottifying the movie (I'm sorry, there really isn't an English word that can truly capture the emotion b...

I recently read a beautiful novel by Chitra Banerjee Divakuruni, titled "The Palace of Illusions" . It is a retelling of the Mahabaratham from the point of view of Draupadi. Beautifully written, one can easily see the young scared girl grow into a strong queen and become the vengeful woman responsible for the Kurukshetra War. Draupadi goes through the motions of falling in love, being unconventionally married to five men, forced to undergo a harsh lifestyle due to the Pandava's misgivings, and be jealous at the other wives these men chose to take; basically, she is portrayed as any other normal woman with insecurities and the strength to face them. It is a wonderfully written book and I would highly recommend it to anyone asking. One subplot that really caught my eye was the love Draupadi had for Karna. The book states that when her Swayamvaram was planned, an artist showed Draupadi a portrait of Dhuryodhana, and she found herself gazing at Karna, who...