A late night flick and few scattered thoughts...

I came back home on Feb 26th tired. All I wanted was to sleep well. I talked to Brijesh for some time. He was watching budget analysis. Then I hit bed fast. It was one of those nights in which I was damn tired, wanted to sleep well and yet sleep didn't come to me. It was not thoughts about my lost love that deprived me of sleep. For a change, there was no reason for my insomnia.

After a couple of hours, I just got up from the bed. I looked at Brijesh with envy when I saw him asleep in the next room. I switched on TV. As I was flicking through channels, I saw that Surya TV was airing Manjil Virinjha Pookkal. "Mizhiyoram nanajholukum " is one of my all time favorite songs. It reminds me of my childhood, my dad and all those wonderful memories. I thought I would watch the film till the song. And I ended up watching the entire film.

I do like the film though I feel that the film has many drawbacks. It was a super hit in 1980. The sensational debut of Mohanlal, one of the greatest actors of Malayalam cine industry. Poornima Jayaram looks very pretty in the film. I once had a huge crush on her. In the film she portrays a depressed woman. And that damsel in distress aura suits her perfectly. Everyone likes a smiling woman's face but I prefer this. She looks awesome when there is half a tear ready to roll in her eyes.

The film kinda made me sad. Not that I am happy otherwise. But it just made my situation more precarious. Sleep then became an extinct species. I lay in bed traipsing the memory lane. The days I used to listen to the songs from this film, the moments that I spent with my dad, the evergreen childhood, the days when I was in love with a girl, the moments that I spent with her and everything flashed in front of my eyes with the leisurely defined precision of images from a slow motion film.

The train of thoughts were continuous. Each one linked to another. And I always had an uncanny ability to spend time lost in thoughts. I took solace in this line of thought that it's the quality of an artistic mind. I kept on checking my cell phone for time. I don't know when I slept but the last time when I checked time in my phone, it was 4:17 AM...

Where memories reincarnate as Harish Babu...

A migratory bird always love to visit it's nest once in a while. And so do I. From the concrete jungles of Bangalore, I flew to my native place, to the jungles of imagination and memories.. The trip was memorable and I really got some moments that I won't forget ever in my life. The second month of the second decade of the century has started pretty well.

I boarded a bus to Coimbatore on Saturday, 30th January, night and reached there at 6:20 AM, the next day. From Coimbatore, I entrained a Passenger Train to Palakkad and from there I boarded a bus to Mannarkkad. I reached home at 9:20 AM. My brother opened the door and it was such a wonderful moment. The last time I saw him was on April 25th 2008; I met him after a gap of 646 days. We have never spent this much time in our lives without meeting each other. Ragesh and Harish, chips of the same old block and birds of the same feather !

Amma soon greeted me in her trademark style, with kisses on my cheeks. Ever since I started my solitary life way back in 1989, it was how she greeted me whenever we met after a gap of few days. Soon I was back to where I belong. Or should I say where I belonged? I don't know. The existential crisis has made me confused about so many things. * s i g h *

I always loved to be in Mannarkkad during winter. Each dawn waking up to the restless onslaughts of winds reciting those nostalgic hymns again and again. Thoughts fly back to the winter of 1986. We celebrated Christmas majestically with dad. Those were heavenly moments. And before the season has withdrawn itself behind the curtains of time, I lost my dad. The bitter sweet memories were rekindled by weather in a poignant form. The hymns recited by the winds in this winter morning in 2010 was no way different from the ones it sang in 1986. The best and worst moments always happened to me during winter. The seasoned thespian called winter played different roles for me in different years.

As the saying goes, all good things have to come to an end. My dream vacation ended on Feb 7th when we three left there. Now when I sit here in my prison in Bangalore, I recall those moments sadly. I know that when I am at Mannarkkad, during Winter, I am not Harish Babu but the incarnation of something else. And Mannarkkad is a mystic place that can bring out this ethereal change. Oh the tireless wheels of time, please take me back to my native place once again, the place that can make me content to an extend and the place where memories reincarnate as Harish Babu...