The Family Tree

Glad to know that you are also watching the singing competitions. Sometime back Raj TV had Carnatic music competition sponsored by Tanishq jewellery and it was really superb. Now I have come to know that Telugu channels music competition based on Annamacharyas' krithis. Hereafter I won't miss them.
PS

 

Dear Shyamala,
Thanks for the information regarding ' Annamayya Pataliputra pattabhishekam' programme. Hereafter I will definitely watch this programme.
PS

 

Dear P'S Madam,
Please watch it. You would not be disappointed.TTD channel. Saturday and Sunday 8 to 10 p.m.
Syamala

 

Dear Mr Cheeniya,
Though classical music is my favourite I do love to hear folk songs, themmangu, lullaby, thalavadyam, and Any soothing and mind calming relaxing music. When we went on a tour to Mukthinath while travelling in a jeep I had the pleasure of listening to the melodies of Nepali music. Any music that touches the heart and calm our nerves is enjoyable and there is no language barrier. Even some jingles are nice to hear.

As the next door mamls were the fans of your music, our back side neighbour was a fan of this bathroom singer and she sent her son to learn from me ignoring my protests and denial.

A soulful singer is the one who understands the meaning of the relic and brings out the baava modulating the voice. Melody queen MS is a true example for this. Gajals and abangs and even the native African beats of drum are enjoyable.

PS

 

Dear Shyamala,
Thanks for the information regarding ' Annamayya Pataliputra pattabhishekam' programme. Hereafter I will definitely watch this programme.
PS

 

I cannot bow enough for that “unintiated” sidenote. I definitely belong to that “un-” group of philistines with no sports knowledge. Few weeks ago, at a book-signing event in a mall I was shopping at, I came across a serpentine queue of enthused junkies. I tapped the shoulder of a queued person and inquired what the hullabaloo was about? She mentioned the name of someone. I further inquired, who that was. She told me that he was a cricketer and his biography had been released. Based on the look on my face, she rattled off astonishing records and few other measures and metrics that made no sense. Then she softly inquired — “You don't look like someone who has interest in sports.” I excused myself before she could scoff at this ignoramus.

I was about to skip this blog on reading the first post on sports and the last post on classical music. Both are not my dominion. Then I read,

and my eyes lit not at the plight of the slaves but at the mention of Rex Harrison and Richard Burton. These yesteryear stars had such charisma and vocals! If I were put in a room with Laurence Olivier, Rex Harrison, Richard Burton, Peter O'Toole and Robert Mitchum (I don't fancy Charlton Heston) then I would quack in my boots like an aspen at this distilled handsomeness. Fabulous screen presence every one of them!

Rather than recording the existing and veritable kinship, I often run counter-factual scenarios in my mind in preparation for some grievous and earth-shattering truth (that never betides), like, what-if I were adopted, would I hunt for my biological parents to discover my roots. Then I weigh such feverish pursuit against logistics of travelling three continents , two oceans and reaching a burial mound in Kiribati where my biological parents are entombed. This motif of a mewling baby left at the door step only to grow up into adulthood as a resourceful man in search of his “real” parents has been exploited enough in our art-house movies. Every time I vet such ancestry mapping expedition (in my hypothetical world), I hear a resounding “no” , there is no way I would go on such a trippy adventure unless I have a rare mutation in my blood which needs transfusion only from my closest relatives. However, I am fascinated by such spirited journeys, fictional or otherwise, where fostered kids seek the taproot of their existence.

I went back to the blog and wondered how did something that started off with sports trended on slavery and ancestry, and ended with tongue-loose. Well, this is Cheeniya's blog, he doesn't go down one rabbit hole, it's a warren he digs.

 

Back in the day, I used to skip the main edition of the daily newspaper laden with shouts on mayhem and hooliganism and op-eds on moral degradation and all types of soul-hammering news. The only page I used to read was that Sunday supplementary edition chronicling the weekly gossip of tinsel-town. I don't know if it is still extant. Even today I hardly read/watch news. Not sure what that makes me, maybe, Jackie of all inane vagaries and Mistress of no intellectual virtue.

I haven't seen The Yellow Rolls-Royce movie. Rex Harrison as Henry Higgins melted my heart that I refuse to see him as anything else. That's a classic act! I fixate actors with one iconic role and then tender my sentimentality at such attractive roles like Spencer Tracy in Adam's Rib, Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mocking Bird, Clark Gable in Teacher's Pet. The actors and the roles fuse into one honey pot for me. I'd propose we have a spin-off called “Cheeniya's Sinematic Ramblings”, a bi-weekly supplementary edition to your Senile Ramblings.