One Grain Amongst the Storm

A Mélange of memoirs, fiction, short stories, verses, book reviews and uncorked angst.

A Blogger’s Kolaveri

on by 32 Comments

O, kind visitor!

Would you mind visitor,

If you find below

An offbeat post

That should float above

The boring verbose

And laboured prose

But sinks below

The sewage of a

Choking city

e.g. Mumbai,

What the shit

Is this Kolaveri di?

I wake up at last,

I sit in the bath,

Stare at the door,

Somehow I cannot

Do it anymore

The way I used to

When I was a kid,

What the shit

Is this Kolaveri di?

Pot white,

Pee pale yellow,

Stinks of cheap champagne

I took months ago,

Sula méthode champenoise,

Few bubbles,

Life full of troubles

And miseries;

What the shit

Is this Kolaveri di?

The Local pulls in

At nine sixteen,

Baboons and chimps

Are packed like sardines,

Hanging out of every

Inch of its skin,

They haven’t really

Washed in months

The stink of sweat

And Bodily tweets

And fingers sprayed

With stale urine

And I just wedge my thin

Shape in between

And get massaged

For free;

What the shit

Is this Kolaveri di?

Workplace throbs

The skull’ s orb

Full of dung

Down the rung

Up the rung

Left of the rung

Right of the rung

360 degrees,

It used to be green

And O, so serene,

When I was young

And life was free;

What the shit

Is this Kolaveri di?

I lay on the bed

With the woman in red,

Can’t get back the tricks

Of the times I was

Freshly married;

What the shit

Is this Kolaveri di?

32 comments

  2. Prose is not verbose
    And for those
    Who have a nose
    For your prose
    Which is like a rose
    Upfront and close
    Enjoy reading whatever you choose
    Hope my comment is not lose
    And thus this Kolaveri Kolaveri di..

    BTW Who is this woman in red?
    .Gosh I am not sure what I have written

  3. This indeed is kolaveri of another kind. But I echo Purba, why the angst? I do hope you know what the word means in Tamil. And when I hear little ones including Sonu Nigam’s cute little boy mouthing the word, I cringe. What are we coming to? You are right. Why this kolaveri di?

    1. Ah, Zephyr! It was supposed to be a harmless aping but as I wrote it, the angst just seeped in. Guess I just can’t master my frustration.

    1. No dear, Mumbai is an old place for me. Its rather the roads life chose down the years that’s gotten me. I am sick of the ‘Kolaveri di’ thing and I have used the phrase for the things that bug me so. Zephyr may throw better light on it.

  8. Kolaveri literally means murderous rage and the reason I find it unacceptable when kids sing it is because of the meaning. I mean, it is really the rage that prompts one to kill another. Signs of the times when bad is either beautiful or cool. 😦

    1. I understand I am off the mark by a fraction of a light year ;)! Unlike the protagonist of the song who is whining about the murderous rage of his girlfriend, I have certain dark grudges against life and this seems to have loaded the post with ‘angst’. Kindly bear with me.

  9. Your last two lines do seem like an apt summation of our Kolaveri fix. I guess the fact that a song with senseless lyrics has gone viral is a reflection of us Indians – all we seem to want is bindaas fun untroubled by a need to reflect.

    1. True. Speaks volumes of our levels. There are a lot many catches around to get sick about and the song doesn’t even make it to that grade.

      Thanks for your footsteps.

  11. I was listening to Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ today and my roommate, all of a sudden, asked me to play Kolaveri song. Epic facepalm moment, it was. But it’s a democratic country and we can’t force our choices/opinions on other people. I prefer not listening to Kolaveri shit and I stick by my decision.
    Incidentally, Kolaveri Di makes it to Time magazine.
    PS: God is near.

  13. I enjoyed your post more than the song. Well, on second thought, that’s not a compliment – I hated that ‘song’. Your post on the other hand was brilliant.

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