Jailer movie review - more a parole than a release

I watched Jailer this morning and this is my first visit to a movie theater after many years. And it is quite possible that that last movie I saw in a theater was Durbar. 

This is the 3rd day since the movie was released, and I caught a 9 AM show at PVR Cinemas in Express Avenue Mall – again my first visit to any mall in many years! For someone who was visiting every mall in the city every weekend (sometimes many in a single evening https://jawaman.blogspot.com/2006/10/mall-hopping_115981030706845969.html) , this is clearly a sign of advancing age. 

And if you want proof of my ageing, please note that the title of this blog indicates that this is a review of the movie Jailer, but for the past 125+ words, I have talked about many other things. Before I forget, let me begin. Also please beware of spoilers ahead. 

Jailer is a tailor-made movie for an ageing (again age!) Superstar whose fan adulation literally surpasses any logic defined so far in the annals of human history. Thankfully, he plays a character close to his age (a retired Jail warden), has a grandkid, and gets henchmen and sharpshooters to finish off most of the baddies. There is no romance either, even in the flashback. 

This is a revenge movie, of a father who is out to avenge the death of those Idol smugglers who killed his son. The movie runs for around 160 minutes, and to a large extent is well packaged. There are inevitable lulls in the narration, but they are not jarring. There is subtle thread of humour running throughout the movie despite its overall vengeful tone. 

Before I start complaining, I really liked the way the villain was projected. He was a ruthless guy and thankfully, could speak Tamil (but with a mild Mallu accent). And he didn’t do any shenanigans or display weird body language or catch-phrase. It was a solid performance by a good actor of a neatly defined character. On a side note, one of his over-zealous henchmen is possibly one of the best non-main characters one can come across in a movie. The way he complains about having to sit on the lap of a man was just out of the world and I haven’t laughed out hard so much in recent times. 

Now, to some of the loopholes of the plot. Apart from mouthing some platitudes, there is no clear proof of what the Jailer did as part of reforming these the thugs, from whom he takes help in his revenge. One, Jackie Shroff, sends henchmen at the behest of the villain and then regrets it because he didn’t know who the target was; he even appears at the end driving a JCB to help the Jailer. Another, Shivaraj Rajkumar, says he is now a changed guy, but he helps the Jailer with bouncer level bodyguards who are also expert snipers. The last one, Mohanlal, doesn’t seem to have had any interaction in the past with the Jailer, but again supplies heavy artillery to the Jailer. There was one more goon whose ear the Jailer chops off, while in jail, but he sends his Sardar henchmen to support the Jailer. The flashback doesn’t really establish the Jailer as a Do-Ankhen-Barah-Haath kind of warden who reforms prisoners, nor is there any clear debt they owe to the Jailer!

Then there is this whole attempt at a Baasha like transformation of the Hero in front of his family. Now, in Baasha, the step siblings had no clue and so they were really shocked about the change. As audiences, we too didn’t know about the backdrop and so that transformation scene is still a template for many movies. Here, however, everyone – the characters and the audience – knows that this a retired cop. And going by the flashback, he is one who makes his own rules. So why would his wife be shocked by his transformation? 

The biggest letdown however, is the son’s characterisation. He is shown as an honest cop and a loveable family man. He displays no conflict with his father in terms of approach in life either. And to see him suddenly having a negative streak, after being kidnapped by the villain was a little jarring. For him to claim that all his years of investigation and catching the low-level smugglers was just to meet the main villain, with a motive of sharing the loot, didn’t carry much logic. This was a little bit of lazy writing, with the main intent being to present a shock to the audience at the end – the Jailer killing off his own son for being a bad guy. This was treated much better in Indian – where the son is clearly shown as a corrupt fellow and the honest father stabs him to death. The shock that Indian created was certainly absent here. 

And the entire segment about the heist, was quite idiotic to say the least. It added no value to the storyline, and it was hardly a surprise that the Jailer had only stolen a fake crown and the real one was still where it was. That entire portion should have been handled better, and the only good thing that came out of it was the Kaavaalaa song. 

Yet, the movie was still packaged quite well and could tide over some of these irritants. And one doesn’t have to say much about Rajni’s performance. He still has the suave, the style and his screen presence has not waned despite him clearly being a frail 72-year-old man. There are more slow-motion walks than required and he either wears spectacles or sunglasses throughout. Yet, and much to my own chagrin, I couldn’t but howl at the way he lights up the cigar – his first smoking scene in 20+ years. 

All in all, this is a good timepass movie, and with a better heist segment and slightly better writing of the son’s character, this would have been a must watch Rajni movie. 

P.S.: I wanted to shout “Once more” for the Kaavaalaa song. But seeing the nature of the crowd in the theater, I made a sensible decision not to. 

 

Deepavali. Crackers. Fireworks.

From time immemorial – I mean circa mid-1990 CE of course – a propaganda against crackers (aka fireworks or pattasu, or as true bloods of Chennai say – dabbas) has been going around. Initially it was all about child labour and then it moved on to pollution and by the time it was 2014 CE, people started questioning whether it is mentioned in the scriptures etc.

The Crackerbans (see how I made those wanting a ban on crackers sounds like Talibans) who want a ban on crackers, talk about air pollution, noise pollution, the suffering of animals etc. Ardent defenders of bursting crackers quote a gazillion hymns and shlokas that have references to crackers and they also quote ancient books written circa 4^th Century CE as well. And then they always highlight the aspect of all such queries coming up only about rituals and practices related to Hindu festivals.

Let me also pitch in with my 10 paise in this debate.

You see, Deepavali is one Hindu festival wherein the religious element is quite less. As in, there is no elaborate poojai to be performed. The only possible stringent rule is that of taking an oil bath at 5 AM (or even earlier according to some) and then wearing new clothes. There is no rule for the neiyvedhiyam to be offered – any sweet and any snack is permitted. In any number of varieties; in any quantity. And therein lies the catch.

You are starting the day at an obscene time of 5 AM. And have an oil bath. This naturally invigorates you and what you see in front of you are a wide range of sweets and snacks. You start consuming them in excess. And you consume some more. And some more afterwards. So, basically, you have now consumed a high quantity of sugar and salt, and this in effect is a lot energy which has to be exhausted.

What can you do now? It is usually the winter season in North India and the rainy season in most parts of South India. The avenues to do physical work are reduced. And this is why the ancient folks created this activity of bursting crackers. To burst crackers, you have to bend down and up. You also have to move quickly after igniting the “thiri” (wick). You feel elated when the cracker works as expected. All this helps you burn the calories you have consumed.

Now comes the other important reason. As the earlier ramblings mentioned, you have consumed too much of high calorie food; Lots of oily items as well. Having consumed lots of sweets and savouries also gives you this satiated feeling, and due to weather conditions, you don’t drink that much water. In this scenario, it is but natural, that one starts developing flatulence inside their digestive tract.

Your gut is working the back channel to let this gas out of the body. It is also well known that the smell of the output is inversely proportional to the noise of the output. You can let go some gas quietly, it will clearly make it uncomfortable for all in the room; in fact, you even have to act as if you smell something and yet not be the first one to do so. To avoid all this drama, the better option is to let it out loudly. But this then takes the secrecy out of the equation. And the society is still not evolved to accept a loud fart as a socially acceptable bodily function; even within families to an extent.

This is why the elders devised this strategic method of bursting crackers. Imagine the same situation detailed above and there is a 1000-wala being burst by your neighbour. You can actually sync up your loud output to that sound and none would be the wiser; except you of course. And over the years of growing, you would be easily able to sync up your efforts with those bursting crackers in the next street as well.

So, you Crackerbans, please first fight for the rights of humans to fart in public and we will then think about not bursting crackers.

You are as old as you look

 Thursday, the 19th of August 2021, was a clear (possibly yet another) reminder that I have started looking my age; Or may be even older. Let me share the details of why I came to this conclusion. It involved two separate incidents in the space of 30 minutes. 

On the said date, I had to visit Giri Traders at Tiruvanmiyur, to purchase the Avani Avittam set for the event that was coming up the following Sunday. As usual, parking was an issue and I had to part in front of Marundeeswarar temple. Having parked in front of his gate, I couldn’t not visit the temple. After a quick Hi to Mr. Thyagarajar and Mrs. Tirupurasundari, I walked towards the aforementioned shop for my purchase and en route, this quaint little place called “House of Annapoorna” beckoned me. 

Of course, not literally, because that would have warranted some severe movement of the ancient buildings, but it was an invitation nevertheless. I had noticed this place for a year or so, but was always wary about checking it out. But not that day. I was quite famished and in desperate need of a caffeine boost and lo behold, I walked in. 

The place is an old Agraharam house, that has been partially remodelled to suit the needs of a restaurant. It has very good ambience and the pricing is quite low. Service is decent and food is tasty too. Now that the Google review is done, let us come to the incident. 

The waiter served me Mysore Bonda, per my request and then went about his business of working other tables. After the Bonda found its rightful place in my digestive tract, I requested the waiter for coffee. This is when the first age related alert came in. 

Like I said, I asked him for coffee and told him that I wanted it a little strong. He then looked at me and asked, “Sugar podalama sir” (Can sugar be added to coffee). This is usually a query reserved for the aged folks who order coffee in a restaurant and it was the first time, to my recollection at least, that someone asked me that question. I could hear shattering glass window panes due to sudden strong winds that also brought in clouds, just like how diabetes always comes up suddenly and brings along cholesterol, BP and what not. Maybe that comparison alone makes it clear that I am old. 

With tears swelling up in my eyes, I controlled the lump forming in my throat and told him to put normal quantity. 

After this shattering experience, I walked to Giri Traders and went to the section where the Avani Avittam set was sold. Just as I was catching my breath (100 metres walk after Mysore Bonda and coffee, followed by 1 flight of stairs ok) and scanning the shelf for what I needed, the sales lady came by and asked what I wanted. 

I told her that I need Avani Avittam set and she asked me if I was smart or if I was Iyengar? I wondered why she thinks that Iyengars cannot be smart, though I do know 1 or 2 Iyengars who would fit that train of thought. I wanted to ask her if she also knew the same people and if not, why she came to such a conclusion. And all this while I was also looking at the shelf and saw that there were 2 sets and they had the label “Avani Avittam Smartha set” and “Avani Avittam Iyengar set”. 

Meanwhile, since I hadn’t responded to her query, she looked at my face and then realized that I was wearing vibuthi and kungumam from my visit to the Shivan temple. 

She then took up one packet from the “Avani Avittam Smartha set” and gave it to me. The label on the packet also said “Grihastha” and not “Brahmachari”. Usually, when I make this purchase, the sales people at least ask cursorily if I wanted Grihastha set or Brahmachari set. But not that day. The lady directly handed over the Grihastha set. Once again, the same set of shattering glass panes, strong winds, gloomy skies all came up. But by then, I was resigned to the reality that I had started looking my age and probably even older. 

So next time anybody sees me and says “Nee innum maarave illa” (you haven’t changed), there are only 2 conclusions – one they are lying or two, I was always looking old. 

Impact on garments due to the Corona China Wuhan Virus

With the havoc wreaked by this Wuhan virus – commonly called the Corona virus – many of us have been working from home or studying from home. We barely see our colleagues or classmates in person and most likely, we only see them online. 

This has even resulted in the creation of hilarious fashion choices wherein people wear a blazer and pair it with a pyjama or dhothi or shorts. This is because our online presence usually shows only the upper portion of the body and so our overall sartorial preferences escape the eye of even a wannabe fashion police-person. (Hey I know to type in woke ok). 

But there is one garment that most of us, especially the men, have not been using regularly due to this pandemic. I at least, have not had any valid reason to wear it, because when I am at home, it is not really needed. And remember, I live in Chennai which is one of the perennially warmer and humid regions of planet earth. Let me tell you what garment I am referring to. 

This garment was a vital cog in our daily lives while we were in school, college and even in office. It gave us the necessary support and grip. This garment is the first layer of protection between our skin and the outside world. We rarely, almost never actually, appear in public wearing just that garment. It always has a fair bit of cover from other things that we wear. Of course, at times of stretching, this garment does give a peek-a-boo and in some other instances, you also get to see some skin. 

The garment I am talking about is made of the finest cotton. Sometimes even in nylon, though again, why people in sweaty regions buy that is a mystery. For extreme cold conditions, this garment comes in wool too. 

And in all its avatars, this garment is usually a stretchable entity, with an elastic base at one end. And needless to say, over a period of time, this elastic loosens up and leads to some embarrassing situations in public. And the loss of elasticity also makes it very uncomfortable while we move. It is also one garment that really generates a lot of stench and it is advisable not to wear an unwashed one; even in inside-outside mode though that is a popular mode adopted by students. 

Yes, thanks to the China virus, I have not felt the need to wear any socks. 

Is-ha Is-ha Is-ha hoiy: When you gotta go you gotta go

I finally found out how this expression "is-ha, is-ha" came about in the famous Tamizh movie song "aadaludan paadalai kettaal" where puratchi thalaivar executes swag bhangra moves. I am referring to this song: https://youtu.be/BqeX54Wmvgw .

Now some context to how this song and its picturisation came about. You see, there are times when you are busy with work, or busy with TV, mobile, etc., when your major excretory organ sends you an alert to park your rear from its current seat to a different seat.

But you are so engrossed in your present activity, or too lazy sometimes, that you choose not to heed the alert and opt to wait till you reach the stage where you have no choice but to go. The pressure starts building up and you start fidgeting around in your seat waiting for the Bat signal. And finally you get the SOS call anda you have no choice but to move.

By now there's way too much pressure built up in the intestines and you start feeling some pain in the tract. It is not an excruciating pain, but one that impairs your free movement which unfortunately is what you need at that time. Your walking muscles seem to have stiffened up and moving appears to be stifled. Added to it, you have this fear that you might soil your clothes if you take a wrong move.

So with weird contortions of your hips, postures you can never achieve otherwise, you start walking, and holding, towards your current heaven.

But every step you take is more painful than the previous one. And based on whether you are alone or with people around, you start moaning internally or externally for every step.

Recollect this moan and play it back in your mind now, or loudly if nobody's around. It is "is-ha".

Yes, "is-ha". The same term used in that song. In fact the lyrics, say more. "varum varum varum. is-ha is-ha is-ha". You can also now relate better to that bhangra steps in the song.

In conclusion, that song and dance was basically inspired by someone who delayed his need to go!

The Paradox that makes us say that Sunday is longer than monday

You know what is a paradox? Well, most of us study or hear this problem where you are lost in an island; with two tribes; one says truth and the other lies; and you have to ask them which one is saying the truth;…. Well that’s a textbook paradox. But if you want a real paradox, let me first introduce you to the concept of “Sunday is longer than Monday”.
If you actually cannot relate to this particular phrase, then you must be a person who doesn’t wear a kai-vecha-banian aka, sleeved vest. Or, if you do wear one, you are surely a full sleeve wearing working class member.
If you are none of the above, then you really don’t understand the pain that a whole lot of us undergo on a routine basis.
And just in case you belong to the minority that endures this phenomenon, but doesn’t know what I am talking about, then this picture should clear the air.

As you can see, I am referring to the problem that a lot of us grown men suffer from when they wear a sleeved vest and a half-sleeved t-shirt or regular shirt over it. This is not a very pleasant sight, and is a slightly delicate one which makes it impossible to point at and laugh. Or alert the person directly. Which is why people suddenly say that Sunday is longer than Monday, hoping that only the person with overflowing vest understands what they say and would take corrective action. But then the phrase is known to many and if you suddenly utter that phrase, everyone around you immediately checks their sleeve. And therein lies a paradox. 

What has to be considered is the root cause of the problem, which if you think about it is the main paradox. On the one hand, the vest makers think that their clientele are constantly increasing in body size and hence, the vests they make must be flexible enough to stretch. Issue however, is that the rate at which a human expands is a tad slower than the rate at which the hosiery does.
On the other hand, the makers of t-shirts and half-sleeve shirts seem to think that their clientele is so fitness conscious that they have to make their product with really tight and short sleeves. For some reason, they believe that the models they use to advertise their product basically represent the entire population, whereas they represent only the models.
Shouldn’t cloth makers make clothes with the same assumption? Paradox?
Coming to adverts, it is almost impossible to find any banian ad where they show an average Uncle type wearing a kai-vecha-banian. It is always a gym body youth who wears a kai-illaadha banian. The very purpose of a banian is to ensure that the body sweat doesn’t show up in the outer layer. So, in the generally hot conditions of this country, why should anyone wear the kail-illadha banian if sweat is going to be pouring out of the most porous part of the body – the underarm. That again is another paradox.
Is there a solution in sight? I can at least offer my experience and hope others benefit. Or feel inspired to share theirs. We sufferers have to keep constantly folding up the vest or tuck it inside the outer sleeve. Some may even have to resort to using a paper clip to hold it in place.
The trick that I usually try is folding the inner sleeve along the hem a couple of times. This way, the vest still stays hidden, and it doesn’t look like you suddenly developed your biceps overnight. The other more painful way is to tuck in the vest into the deep ravines of the underwear. The idea being that the tightness of the elastic in the underwear holds the vest in place and ensures that there is no peek-a-boo from either arm.
Obviously, this method carries the inherent risk of asphyxiation, especially when sitting. And sitting is what we mostly do the whole day and so, this technique may require a lot of training before it can be implemented without supervision.
Until we find a long term solution to this issue, we have no choice but to wear full-sleeve shirts.

Review of Kaala - No masala

The movie is a classic example of what is wrong with Tamil movies – the promise of a good story and plotline, compromised to accommodate the image of the lead actor and a Director who equally sees himself to be a messiah of sorts.

The movie does have some “mass moments” made for Rajni and he still delivers them with ease. The scene when Kaala and Hari meet is hands-down, the high-point of the movie. Sadly, there isn’t much else of substance except, the second direct meeting between these two. I think the Director basically gave all his focus only to these two scenes.

As you may have heard by now, Kaala is an old Don who is still wielding significant influence with his men in Daravi. Bad politicians are trying to promote the space to build infra projects and Kaala tries to stop it. Rather, stops it. Ho-hum. Seen in too many movies. And will be seen in many more to come too. So, not a new story by any stretch of imagination.

However, the first half of the movie did make you sit up, primarily because of the introduction of a character that comes to help these slum-dwellers. While this too is probably standard, the interesting aspect is that she is a former lover of Kaala. And this fact is known to all and sundry. And we also get to see them interact and make it clear that the past should be left in the past. It was quite a welcome change from the regulation in Tamil movies, where true love means death, when circumstances split lovers. Then, these two are also at loggerheads with the first project that is proposed and you start thinking that, the scorned woman is going to seek revenge. That doesn’t happen and by the time the movie ends, you realize that the only reason for having that character is to show some white skin in an otherwise dark-skinned movie – yet another trap that Tamil cinema can’t get out of. 

Otherwise, you get to see all the standard tropes laid out one after the other. Young kid suddenly being giving advice usually means he is going to be killed or would turn out to be a traitor. Son who is the brawn for the ageing Daddy Don, gets killed. Don’s wife gets killed right after a "cute" scene. Hindu Don offering Namaz. One son who is defiant and others who want to. Etc.

The Director presents the protagonist always in black and the antagonist always in white, when usually it is the other way around. I felt it was a nice touch, but sadly, he ruined it by literally spelling it out in the second one-on-one meeting between these two. And this second scene is almost a replay of the first scene with all roles swapped; in a way it is an interesting premise.

A jarring note in the entire movie is that none of them speak properly. The Director should have concentrated more in fine-tuning the dialogue delivery of Eshwari Rao – her Telugu accent makes its presence above the Tirunelveli slang, thereby dampening an otherwise awesome performance. Like one reviewer said, this is how one portrays innocence. Similarly, Nana being made to talk in Tamizh is equally jarring. Agreed, he’s a Mumbai guy (reel and real) and can speak only broken Tamizh, but once it was decided that it had to be Tamizh, he should have at least spoken it loudly.

One must be really blind to miss the subliminal messaging scattered across the movie. You get to see or hear Buddha, Ambedkar or Bhim in every scene or the other – when the good guys are shown. Characters often say they were born in Bhim Nagar. You also see Ram and Ganesh when the bad guys come up. There was an over-sprinkling of Swastik and Om symbols in Nana’s public meeting. In fact, the lead up to the climax has a parallel scene of the Yudha Kandam of Ramayana being narrated at the antagonist’s house. The message, if it was still not clear, Ravana is the victim and Rama is the perpetrator. The Director also doesn’t leave the chance to splash the screen (quite literally) with his favorite colors of Black, Red and Blue. The end credits also show up anti-NEET protests!

Even if you ignore all these aspects, one cannot miss the shadow of the Tuticorin Sterlite agitation looming large over the movie. This movie was not made after the incident, but there are enough scenes that resemble what happened there.

If you treat this as a mass movie, it fails miserably because the protagonist has not really taken direct revenge on the guy who destroyed his direct family and the extended one in the slum. If you want to treat is a non-mass movie, then it fails even more miserably, because all the tropes of a standard masala movie are presented in abundance and there is an obvious lack of story.

Rajni does get some acting scope and his mass scenes still deliver what his fans expect. So yes, you can watch the movie because it is not in the league of Baba or Sura. But you don’t have to feel bad if you don’t.

Ungift a Gift Voucher

The one burning question in the mind of many people in this internet age simply boils down to this: Is there a socially acceptable time frame before which one can ungift a gift voucher? 

Most often, a gift is not directly between individuals and is more of a group gifting. So the gifter, in this case is actually the one who is procuring a gift voucher. (S)He has to discuss with so many stakeholders each with his/her own agenda of how much to contribute. (S)He then has to decide whether they should buy the voucher first and then ask the co-contributors to pay up or simply demand that the co-contributors pay upfront and then buy the voucher. And for taking up all this headache, one can be sure that the co-contributors would come up with brilliant alternatives, the exact instant after a voucher is procured. But i digress from the burning issue on hand. 

Simply approach this problem from the gifter’s viewpoint. I mean, the gifter goes through a lot of mental stress and agony over procuring a gift voucher from an e-commerce site. Where is the agony you ask? (S)He has to first determine what is the appropriate amount to be gifted in the first place. Once that is done, (s)he has to then decide which site to buy it from - should it be Amazon or should it be Flipkart or Snapdeal or Paytm or eBay or wherever. 

So the gifter has to understand which site the giftee uses more often and then buy the voucher there. How does one find that out when the gift is more of a social obligation, like when the gifter has to attend the wedding of his/her mother’s colleagues son? It is impossible to do that and so, the gifter takes a gamble and buys it from a site that (s)he prefers. 

Then comes the amount. Does one give Rs.101 or 201 or 701? Does the site where the gifter buy the voucher have the correct denomination? If one has to give 251 and the site offers only in multiples of 101, how can you gift 251 - you can only buy for 202 which is lower or 303 which is higher. And in both cases, the ending is not a “1” and so doesn't really qualify as the correct gift amount. 

Somehow the gifter uses all of his/her arithmetic and calculus skills and arrives at the appropriate amount for which the voucher can be bought. And then comes the next problem - the vouchers can be issued in someone’s name (email id) or to self. For social obligation gifting, the gifter rarely knows the giftee's email id. So (s)he gets the voucher to their own id. 

The transaction is then complete and some sites allow the gifter to print it out in some fancy template. Ok, the gifter is all set, attends the event and hands over the voucher. Oh wait, (s)he cannot, because the vouchers come with a password. 

Then starts the next confusion. Should the password for the voucher be written on the printed gift voucher itself? Or can (s)he send it to the giftee separately? If so, how can it be done when the gifter doesn't have the giftee’s number or even email? The gifter takes a risk at this juncture and decides to write it at the back of the printed voucher. 

Finally, the gift is handed over and the gifter heaves a sigh of relief. But some 10-11 months later, there is an email in his/her mailbox from the e-commerce site, alerting him/her that the gift voucher is about to expire in one month or so. Now imagine how frustrated this gifter must feel that all his efforts have just been blindly ignored by the giftee. 

Should the gifter then somehow reach out to the giftee and remind them to use it? Or is it a socially acceptable thing to conclude that since the voucher is about to expire, one can deem that the giftee is not interested or is not going to use the voucher and so, can the gifter use it for his/her own purchase? Can someone solve this burning issue plaguing today’s society?

Besant Nagar real estate price

Partha came home from work and found his mother opening the door with a beaming face. Janaki locked the door after letting her son inside and the next instant Partha asked “Amma, why are you appearing happier than usual?”. Janaki told him to first refresh himself and come down for dinner. The obedient son that he was, Partha was at the dinner table in 15 minutes, after a quick bath and quicker evening prayers. At the dining table, he again asked his mother as to why she was happy. 

“Why are you in such a hurry. I will tell you.”, said Janaki while partaking her standard meal of curd rice. In the inimitable style of hers, she slowly started the story with a query to Partha - “Dei, what is the real estate rate in Besant Nagar?”. Partha asked her back if she was checking on purchase or rental. His mother confirmed that she was looking at the purchase cost at Besant Nagar. 

Trying to recollect what his RAM memory had stored for this query, Partha replied “Must be some 4 Crores amma.”. Janaki asked him “Enda, our next house deal was somewhere around 8 or 9 Crores right, so shouldn't the per ground cost be around 5 Crores?”. Not being too keen on these numbers, because he knew that it was pure theory and not something that concerned him, Partha acknowledged his mother’s version. Janaki then asked Partha what would be the cost per square foot. 

Having lost his capability to do simple arithmetic thanks to the advent of Mobile phones, Partha took out his phone and calculated that the rate, at 5 Crores per ground would come to Rs.208.00 per square foot. Janaki’s smile continued to increase and Partha was getting too anxious. "Amma, please tell me what’s going on.”

Janaki slowly said “Illa, I got some space in Besant Nagar at Rs.20 per square foot. And that too, I was paid that rate!”. Partha almost choked on the piece of dosai that was in his mouth and in a shocking tone asked how she managed it. Janaki cooly responded that it was their space and she had got it back this afternoon. Partha was even more shocked to know that his family possessed space in Besant Nagar and that his mother actually reclaimed it. 

“I never knew we had it ma. Where is it and how did you manage it?”. His mother patiently replied that he knew about the space and it was just a case of his absent-mindedness that he forgot about it. Partha knew that the minute his memory capability was brought up, the discussion would veer towards some admonishing and to retain the focus on current topic, he said “Leave that ma. Tell me where is it and how did you get it.”

Janaki said that she got it back from the electrician that afternoon. Partha again asked how and she then asked him to take a look into the room that he didn't visit that often - the study room. Partha went there and returned saying “Something is different there ma, not sure what it is”. He watched his mother get up and drag him to the room. 

“Do you remember what was here?” she asked, pointing to one part of the room which was now empty. Partha then remembered and said “Oh yes, your bed was here”. Janaki got a little embarrassed and said “I used it at least as a bed unlike you”. It was now Partha’s turn to take a step back and he asked “So where is the treadmill now?”. 

It was now back to a beaming Janaki who said that she had sold it to the electrician. Partha was actually happy that finally it was indeed sold and from previous enquiries, he knew that nobody wanted to take it. He was even ready to bear half the vehicle rental cost if someone could just take it out of the house. He asked his mother how much she got for it and she said “Well the 25 thousand rupees treadmill was sold for 350 rupees”.

He then asked his mother “Ok good. But tell me what was this land deal at low price that you talked about?”. Janaki smiled and said “Dei, that treadmill was occupying around 20 square feet of this room and I sold it for Rs.350. It was actually Rs.400 and the electrician took a commission of rupees 50. So, when I gave off this treadmill for Rs.400, I got back around 20 square feet of my own space. Given that the land value in Besant Nagar is more than Rs.200 per square foot, isn't this a great deal for us?” 

Partha was amazed at this calculation and simply bowed his head in front of his mother.

Untruth is stating the correct answer to the wrong question

Well, the dictionary definition of “untruth” may not be very easy to understand and hence, I am coming up with this one page document, which with the example quoted inside, should help one understand what the meaning of “untruth” is all about. 

Two days ago, I was headed to the Upanayanam of the son of a close friend of mine. I could have easily missed the function and he wouldn't have complained. But, there was no way I was going to miss a function arranged by him, because his aasthaana caterer is one phenomenal cook. 

I was also informed in advance that the first pandhi would be served at 9 AM, to help the office goers take an early brunch so that they can sleep easily in the office; assuming of course that they didn't sleep while driving to work and cause even bigger traffic snarls than usual. 

So my friend Raghu and I had decided to target that first batch, despite the lack of requirement of physically having to go to office. We could sleep at home right? Anyway, on the ordained day of eating, I was slightly delayed while starting. It looked like our aim of being part of the first pandhi may not really materialize. Also, the later it started getting, the traffic build-up would be higher and I was afraid that the caterer maama would run low on payasam. 

And like I guessed, the traffic on Adyar bridge was quite heavy, so much so that it was a standstill towards the north end; the very direction I was headed to. All along, I had been updating Raghu about my position, so that he we wouldn't waste time in waiting for him to reach the predefined pickup spot. The updates were being sent via Whatsapp messages. 

But I wasn't typing while driving, since I know that it is dangerous. So, I had started using the Google feature of giving it instructions, including the dictation of message to be sent via Whatsapp. I followed the same modus operandi on Friday and in hindsight, maybe sharing my Google location would have been a more effective input. 

Anyways, to give instructions to Google, one has to hold the phone on hand and as bad luck would have it, an “Uncle” spotted this. He pulled me over after I crossed the signal. If you know Andhra Mahila Sabha signal, you will also recollect what a busy junction it is and that most of State Govt ministers ply along that route. Now, I somehow understood that my phone usage was the issue and quickly let it off my hand and let it reside in one of the cubby holes of the car. 

The uncle didn't come to talk and I found that a senior uncle was asking him what was going on. And all these uncles were on walkie talkie, so presumably, some Minister was on the move and these folks were a little jittery. The junior one told his senior that I was talking on the phone. So my suspicion was correct and I was cursing myself for being so naive in using the phone such that someone could spot it! The senior uncle had by then come near my car and told the junior that it was someone else. The junior reiterated that it was me. The senior guy looked at me and asked if I was talking on the phone. 

Now we get to the place in the climax of the story line, where one reveals the title. I basically said an untruth by nodding my head in the negative to the senior cop and said “No”. The senior simply waved me away and I went off. 

So why was my statement not a lie but an untruth? It is because one has to understand what was asked. The question to me was if I was talking on the phone. The implication was that he was checking if I was on a phone call with someone. My answer was “No” and it was the right one because, I wasn't on a phone call. I was not “talking to someone on the phone” and was in fact, talking "to the phone”. 

If the cop had asked if I was using the phone, I would have confirmed it and would have been booked for “rash driving” as was the case sometime in 2015. But here, my answer was a perfectly correct statement for the question that was asked, though in wholistic terms it was not true. This, my dear audience, is what an Untruth is.

P.S.: The food was as amazing as ever.