Saithan Cycle la Varuthu Ft. Me

I’ve been in Chennai all my life. There are lots of things to point out to Chennai for its glory and specialty. But, there are tons of directors that talk about it. Why am I here now? To talk about traffic- the one thing no one seems to want to write about… or have I missed it? My travel through the city can be divided into three major modes: Walking, Bus and Cycle. Riding in a/a Bike or a car is unbelievably rare for me, because I’ve got a mediocre knowledge of both. There is a very little to discuss about Nada-raja service because, to get caught in traffic when you’re walking is a skill. Either you must be “yo momma so fat” fat or you must be well, have lost your screws up there.
Coming to Bus travel I have already written about it in my previous posts and blogs about all the jannal seat conundrums and ticket kashtams. People who know me, must’ve read it. Here I’d like to tell about my general adventures of Chennai traffic and with my cycle too. Before I start off, I don’t know if bikers and other two wheelers face the similar or even more difficulties, if so, let the Road-u madha bless you with all the chilra you’re gonna vaarify.
Going on Chennai roads is an art. Oru vela athan namma aalungaluku varaliyo? Probably this is the only place in Tamil nadu where the “left la indicator potu right la porathu makes sense”, and might become legal soon. Enna? people want to ban momos, why not ban logic? My cycle has two blinkers, one in the front and one in the rear. I almost always never forget the blinkers when there is no sunlight since I met with a small accident. But I’m not sure, if all these people can see the blinking light. There will be this uncle in a Fuel economy bike whom I think might have asked his wife to make murungakka sambar, murungakka poriyal, murungakka kootu and all, oh and aththi pazham juice too. He will be in ulaga-maga rush to his home, when? When sun is out kolthing. Dei it’s 11.30 da, enga mela otitu nee veetuku poi o… seri okay avarukum vazhi vittuta there will be this couple on R15. She will be sitting in 1st floor and he in basement. I often think that this setup is a sly technique by boys to make the girl hug them during brakes since oru front brake will lead to angry bird action of launching the girl into the air.
Okay da, neengalum ponga, then there will come this share auto driver who must’ve been this kid who didn’t get to ride a cycle. He will take all the inch gap and centimeter gaps and will do his best to do the “Cycle gap la Sindhu paaduvan” thingy, with his share auto. Seri share autovum pogatum nu vitta then, his younger cousin, Auto will come. He will be blessing everyone with all the cuss words and profanities known to mankind and dinosaurkind. I even feel his skills in kazhuvi oothing your family is better than his driving skills. Though these auto annas are better maps than google but they give off more heat than a Redmi phone. Beside this auto there will be one guy in lungi on a RX-100 who will have a 90’s bgm as his horn and will scare all the pazhaya aunties and thathas. Sometimes there will be a girl in his pillion seat who’s face will be mummified in the dhupatta. He will give her heart attack instead of orgasms by driving through all the sandhu bonthu. Dei that is not the gap you must… okay.
Somehow coming past all this, we come to a Major signal in that direction of the city. And past that signal will be your college, home, hostel, bathroom ellam. That signal is the ultimate barrier for all the things in life and I’m pretty sure everyone knows what signal I’m talking about. This signal is designed such a way that, all the following things will happen.
  1. You’ll reach your college for 3rd sem arrear exam if you start for 11th half yearly.
  2. You’ll reach for your child’s 3rd birthday if you’re going to meet your 1st ex-girlfriend.
  3. You start for an interview and reach for your Junior’s promotion. Wait, that won’t happen! Avanukum vela kedachirukathu.
  4. You start during Sherlock Season 5 and reach when Sherlock season 6 promo comes out.
  5. You start for Saravanan Meenatchi… uh… you’ll still end up there.
Then there are these roadu janthus, the maadu-Ola, aadu-Uber, Chinna yaanai-Tata ace, The Karadi government bus who will be ruling the roads and they might even have a will stating, “This is my Grandfather road”. You somehow pass that “ootla soltu vantiya” scooty guy who scolds us for going by rules, and the “kanna enga vechitu vara” XL aunty, aiyyo I meant TVS XL. Barry Allen eh confuse aagura alavuku timeline changes nadanthu eppadiyo green signal vizhum.
When the Signal turns green there will be these idiots who will start honking 0.0001 seconds after green goes off, why da ivlo avasaram? In a nutshell, the only possibility where you reach your destination in time is when your destination is The Signal itself.
Once you’ve time travelled through this signal you’ll then face the bigger demons of the road, oh not the direct contractors of Mr.Yeman – The elemental combo – the Mannu Lorry and the Thanni Lorry – But the all cosmetic imperfections of the road which the cosmic entity in itself would not know why. First there will be a speedbreaker, but it will be taken because it would be too bumpy for vehicles, so they will remove it half-heartedly, apparam when sky goes chucha, the bad digging will lead to potholes which will lead to plot holes in our life. The hole will develop and they will announce it as metrotrain works soon. Escaping all the holes you’ll definitely be bound to find yourself to the surprise pan missiles from bus and lorry windows. Even Kaaka does kakka on you. Onnyum panna mudiyathu.
If you have somehow crossed all this to reach your destination, then the gods bless you with a splash of mud from the rain, and the rain itself to wash it off. Ivvalavum mudichi antha edathula poi sentha, oruthan kepan, “Dei nee innuma cycle otitu iruka?”.
Tyre oda senthu namma heart layum kaathu pogum.

The Marriage

In an event of rare occurrence a Swami and a Nun we’re engaged to each other. The best man of the wedding was their best friend, a Fakir.

But the Nun’s followers didn’t want him to get married, so they deviced a plan to stop the marriage. Some big shots manipulated the fakir to plant another woman’s inner wear in the Swami’s room so that his fiancé thinks he is cheating on her.

The Nun knew there was a conspiracy going on from her followers and was very alert. They gave him multiple items to plant on the bed that the Swami was sleeping in. But the fakir being Swamiji’s best friend had a last minute change of mind so he made a plan. The fakir didn’t notice the Nun who was hiding in the balcony and her brother, a Pastor, who was hiding inside. He tiptoed silently up to Swami’s bed and began placing the clothes and a paper hidden inside telling all the details. They both caught him red handed, but he confessed. At that time The Swami woke up and saw the clothes and misunderstood the situation. Angrily, he attacked his best friend. The fakir now irritated, stopped Swami and showed him the note which explained everything. Now the followers who were waiting outside from outside the room were ashamed and asked for their forgiveness. The Swami directed them to his Fiancé but she didn’t forgive them and told them the Lord will take care.

A writer was was seeing all this from the next building. He was sleepy but his deaf wife wanted to know what happened. So he shortened the whole climax and said in his own comical way,
“You fakir! She Swami!, I ran Pastor”
The wife asked about the woman, he replied
“Fucks given: Nun”

Cringe Attack: Senses

I was a northern state for a week and it was a great stay. The capital city of this state was a lovely one albeit its little discomforts. But one thing that reinforced in me was that your senses are sure to be the first point of attack every time you go out. As I returned home I realized that we wage a war of senses with the world we step out of our home. We win sometimes, we lose most times, but that doesn’t matter because every smell, every temperature, every sound, every pressure is an experience. I’ll leave the shade of feeling you feel to you. If this post makes you cringe, my job is done.


There are lots of things that you see with your eyes, like the orange coat sunset over the clouds, or the trippy half-cut side of a purple cabbage, or the way the coffee powder mixes slowly into milk. These are some soothing sights that you see in your day to day life which have a positive effect or not effect you.
Here comes the Attack.
The first attack I want to talk about is the one where you’re sprayed with Influenza infected droplets of death, Saliva. Sneezing is one of the most ungodly acts of human nature when done without closing mouth. I’ve been in a situation where a light behind a man highlighted his open sneeze and I saw the particulates fly off in every direction. Brrr. I ran before I got a fresh coat of Saliva.
Everyone loves eating, but some people manage to make it the most undesirable act of the century. They chew with the mouths so open that a Crow could come and pick some food off. Also, that sound that accompanies it. “Chowk Chowk Chowk”. Please.
Human body makes a lot of wastes, some of them are disgusting, some of them go unnoticed, I’m going talk about the disgusting one. Oh, not that one, but the one that comes from your eyes and nose. Doesn’t that little white goop in their eyes want to scratch out your own eyes? Or the gummy boogers you see having a fun time swinging in their nose hairs make you cut off your own nose? If you have felt the same way, Hello. Once I saw a man whose boogers slipped and fell into his soup. I wanted to jump out of my skin. I’m not saying everyone will be aware every time, but please for the love of god!
Have you ever sat in a restaurant or a coffee shop and someone bent down right before your face? Yes, getting a butt in your face is not the greatest thing while eating food. But that’s not the worst part, it’s the butt crack that makes you spit out your intestines. If you manage to think that, ‘it’s Butt, nothing but’ then you might be built for something stronger like the spitting.
Oh. It’s not the normal spitting. This is a special kind of spitting that makes you hate physics. The spit that curves. The phenomenal bus-window spit. This guy who has been ‘arachifying’ that pan in his mouth for the past 30 minutes chooses the exact moment right before you get up, before the vehicle halts at your bus stop, and he goes “plicchhhh” towards the windows. You must have seen rainbows? That’s how the spit curves. It curves from his mouth and hits the one behind his seat. That is, you, painting you in Red. As your tears mix with the pan, I’ll let you deal with that scarring image.


Ears are a wonderful sense to enjoy the world, the sweet music of the nature swishing and swooshing with winds, or the consistent tapping of rain on your window or the eargasm you feel when you hear the waves rock you to sleep. But there is another side to sounds. Naaais.
Here comes the attack
One might think this is the lesser of sensory attacks, but I have some tricks for this one. You might’ve experienced this, you’d be having lunch and there would be this one guy that will have his lunch and make sounds like a whale. You can literally hear him drinking his water, or munching his murukku.
Or those loud talkers in theatres who seem to make the most irritating noises of all. And there would be another couple that will making noises that mimic rats squeaking. Get a room please.
There are those idiots who tap the table during an important meeting. Man, that makes you so mad. They must be hung with their ID cards.
And you bathroom singers. Pothum da dei
You know, you’re moving in a line, standing in a que for a bank or even Pongal in kovil, then you hear a sound, “darrrrrrr”. Let’s pray to the mighty power above it was a one of those times where a hole was made in a fabric by tearing and not the people tearing a hole in the fabric of time by releasing body air. Ewww. IKR.

Mooku Varmam

This is my favourite/unfavourite part in this blog. My special wishes and condolences to nose for enduring so many things in life. Seriously Nose, You da man.
As the heading says, using nose is an art, it has a million good purposes, like taking in the sweet smell of vadai, or the fragrance of a flower or the olfactory treat of breathing in a new book. But at times certain things are thrust upon you and you can’t hold your breath always.
Here comes the attack
First let’s start with all bodily odours. I think a bus is the place where one can experience all the human based odours. First of all, sweat, that little salt droplet that rolls down from your underarm, ever so slowly that it progresses like the dooms day that’s coming towards us. While you’re engrossed in tracking that sweat bullet on your skin, the person standing behind you is grossed out by the unmissable gappu it creates. His poor nose is bombarded by nasal bomb from you. As he tried to move away from you, someone else releases something else among the bus crowd. This thing as strong as the Bomb Trump dropped over afghan. Beware, this one is the sum product of multiple dishes from the previous day that didn’t ferment properly inside your body. I really wish there was a fart detector in public places. People would run for life.
You go to the conductor to get ticket, but your heart stops for a few minutes as your face goes into different corners of your head. The smell of bad breath demands you! It demands you to be felt! This is such a horrible experience you know. You can’t express the insane amount of discomfort your nasal cavity faces wanting you to rip off the nose but also must continue the conversation until you get what you need. All his pan, unbrushed teeth, the onions he had, makes sure you count your blessings post this experience
Seri, okay you get down from the bus and another war. The mighty koovam. This ever-present river will make sure your olfactory senses are deactivated for a few moments such that you can’t breathe.
But the other thing that trumps this is public bathrooms. If there is a place where you want to train your senses, this is the ultimate dojo. Nose, eyes, and ears will be made sure you grow a new pair.
Nose Knows Everything.
After all this if you survive you’re the best.
Remember. Everyone has problems related to body, don’t take it lightly, make sure you fix it. Also make sure you don’t offend anyone with your words.

Drungen Mangi Shtyle

I had to go to a place near Mahabalipuram for an errand entrusted upon me on Friday, (en na sila moonjigala paatha than kothu vidanumnu thonum pola) and I was met with a certain situation while returning home which made me rethink my life choices. This peculiar situation flipped my perspective on life and made me feel like there is more to live in this life. You might have think I met with an accident or met a sage or at met a beautiful girl. Normal fate would have opted for any of the aforementioned options, but my fate had other ideas. I got to spend 90 odd minutes of bus travel with a man who was fully drunk.
He was not your average drunkard who you see outside Tasmac. But he was your party-peppy-yo-yo-mama guy, he was wearing shorts, a plain shirt, had a metal strapped watch and a bulky wallet because, well, because he wanted me to pick pocket it from him. Yes. That’s how it was.
I got into one of those Pondicherry busses. Unlike, our MTC bus, this one had a taller and better backrest and I think they could be classified as semi sleepers. I took a ticket to Thirvanmiyur bus stop and got a window seat luckily(?). I wanted go into pulavar mode and enjoy the fresh breeze, but No. Fast forward 15 minutes there comes this man. And mind you, in all my conscious life I have seen a man so drunk only a few times, after saying something to the conductor he came and sat down in the seat in front of me, and as fate ruled, I happened to stretch my legs which hit his legs below the seat and he came and sat down next to me stating that I’m free to stretch my legs now, that was the only freedom I had. He introduced himself to me and said that he is fully intoxicated, I, being creeped out by his sudden interference offered him the window seat in case he throws up. He refused straight away, and said he just had a few beers and shots. Now even more creeped up by his non-vomiting confidence, I decided to get up and move to another place. But no, also this guy saw me starting to get uncomfortable and didn’t let me go. He started calling me “bro”, he was around 40 years and he was calling me bro. Nera kodumai.
I nice ah took out my earphones and plugged it in, he noticed that. “Bro pesunga bro, people lam ippo pesavey maatranga, veetuku pona ava tv laye iruka neengalum pesa maatringa.” He was emotional. I was awkward. Dei, you have a wife da, I’m not your bro da.
“Bro illa light ah thookam varuthu, athan…” For fucks sake I called him bro. Ignoring my plea he started rambling something and all, starting from, meeting Sachib, seeing Amibath Bachab, Dhonib, Bodi, Banbogan Singb, and other intelligible worbs that I didn’t quite understand. His tongue was rolling like Vandu Murgan. I tried to avoid him by not talking. For 15 mins or so he stopped, then came the next stop where a family got into the bus.(Paavam avangalukum headwriting was kirukals pola) they proceeded to sit in the seat in front of us, but the Knight in drunken armour came to the seat’s rescue. He didn’t let them sit and argued with them, why? Because he wanted that seat aam, and there was an aavi of a dead person residing below the seat. Unable to hold in my laughter I laughed out, so did the family. The conductor tried to intervene, but believe me, he threatened that he will vomit on his tickets. (nuclear, biochemical laam enna weapon, ivan paarunga saraku vomit vechey bus ah hijack pannitan). The conductor tried his best to argue the man out of that seat. But he didn’t budge. He suddenly turned to me. (aiaiyo)
“intha bro kitta kelunga naa evlo decent aana family nu”. (flash backs to Winner thirudan comedy)
Unable to sit there another moment, I got up, pushed him down into this seat and got up and sat in the last row which was empty. There was no other empty seat, in the bus, appada sethan sekarunu I thought.
But Saniyan saraku adichitu nera en kitta than vanthuchu. Pakkathula iruntha uncle ah ezhupi vittutu ukkanthiruchu.(Flashes back to avar rendu ambathu, ivar rendu ambathu aagamotham cheers) Seri innaki pozhuthu ivan kooda than polayenu nenachen. Appo than he said, “Bro hold this, inthaanga” (he gives me this thick brown wallet, full of cards, cash and more) I gave him a Quizzical look and he explained that I wanted to hide his wallet so that he can blame the conductor for getting pickpocketed. (he was telling all this loudly enough for everyone to hear). Seri pogatum kazhuthaye nu I took his wallet. Apparam he forgot that somehow and showed an expression of vomiting. (again aiaiyo)
I got up from my seat, asked the window seat guy to clear and made him sit there, I still had the purse and his stuff. This guy, out of nowhere begins singing. Not knowing what to do, I sat there like Inji-thinna-something. He turned towards me and did the same expression vadivel does in that bagavathar scene. I knew that he was going to explode any minute. He was a time bomb ticking.
Tick tock, Tick tock, Tick Tock…
My stop was almost there, I proceeded to give his stuff to the conductor who said he’ll take care. appo than I noticed, his Ticket rate was way lower than mine. He was supposed to get down somewhere long before my stop.
After getting down, I saw the bus stop again shortly after few meters. He got down.
Onney onnu than I remember in that situation, “Manaivi amaivathellam kadavul kodutha varam, motor amaivathellam avan avan seitha venai”

If Kabali and Kabali Khan had a conversation.

Kabali Khan: Allooooo


Kabali: Hello, Kabali here. *in the most rajinistic voice ever*


Kabali Khan: Kabali ah? Appa naanga mattum yaaru? Naangalum kabali than ya.

Kabalis assistant: Baashha bhai ungala ippovey paakanumnu solraru.

Kk: Athu Yaarya baashha boy? Ippo than Kabali nu sonna?
Paakanumna ungoiyava vara sollu.

K: Kanna panninga than kootama varum singam single ah than varum. Naan than Kabali from Malaysia. Kumudhavalli pathi visarika phone pannen.


Kk: Ippo ethuku antha punchu? Singam single ah illa married ah nu un kitta sollucha? Nee en ithellam solra? Ippadi than oruthan avan aal Sangeetha saivamnu oor poora hotel la board vechan, avan enna aanan theriyuma?-

K: Thambi, konjam irunga mukkiya vishyam pesalamnu vanthen, naa yaarnu theriyama pesitu irukeenga.

Kk: Yov, nee antha sandai podra thambi Buruce Lee oda thambi Kaba Lee thaney? Kiyaaaa nunkathithey irunthaney pa ungannan, ippadi vesham vestaangungaley paavinpasanga.

K: Illa avaru vera—

Kk: Yov, avan podatti thaney Kumudhavalli? Aama seri nee en antha pullai ah thedra? Un pech eh seri illaye.


K: Naan Coatu podrathuthan unaku prechana poduven da Unaku naan pesarthu than prechana na pesuvenda, style ah, geth ah—

Kk: Yov yov kabali, iruya, Naangalum coat poduvom, Appo vey naanga Vandu murugan ah coat suit ellam potu nadanthavaga. Kadupethrar my lord.

*Phone call disconnects*
*calling again*

Kk: Hello…kekutha?

K: Indiala evalavo maariduchu, innum ithu maarala. Poo vizhuntha poo paathai, Thala vizhuntha singa paathai.

Kabali’s another assistant: nee Indiavukey poidu Shivaji, intha punch ellam keka mudiyala.

Kk: Vaada nee vaada en areaku vaada, Naan ingathan pondicherry la livingston. Apparam etho Kabali nu en peru sonna, Athu yaaru ippo Shivaji.?

K: Naan Kabali than, Naan oru thadava sonna 100 thadava sonna maari. Ippo summa athirum paarunga


Kk: 1000 vaati sonnalum naan kekamaaten, periya periya naai sekar, chinna bagavathi ellam naan paathurken.

K: neenga romba thappa pesringa Mr.Khan.

KK: shoiiyyoooo, nee thanya wrong call pannitu wrong ah pesrathu. *begins to chew beeda* *beep* *beeeeep* *beeeeeeeeep*


K: Magizhchi.

*cuts call*

Disclaimer: This is just for fun. I book the first FDFS tickets for all Rajini Movies.



Perfect Recipe for a South Indian Climax scene.

We south Indians are known for our great and unimaginable fight sequences. We freaking love Drama!

We’ve cooked up the perfect recipe for the best climax fight sequence.


  • Lots of knifes and wooden logs, 1 gun, that isn’t used.
  • 1 empty, windy open land with red soil or straw. It must be dusty and things must fly.
  • 6 Small Sized thugs for warning the hero. Loud ones with dark, sweaty looks appreciated.
  • 10 Medium sized thugs, interval scene fights.
  • 4 Large thugs, climax fight.
  • 1 comedy thug who knows pseudo karate (Size doesn’t matter)
  • 1 major villain, choose your own villainy type. (Loud, Fat, Suave, ruthless,etc.)
  • 2 sub villain – left and right hands.
  • 1 hero & 1 superhot heroine
  • 1 bike for Hero, no helmet (Shot miss aayidum)
  • 21 Scorpio cars – Fast and dusty and 1 Omni car – For kednaping purposes
  • 1 azhuku chloroform kerchief and Rope – as per requirement


We need to motivate our hero to level up from a common man to a super human-punching-kung-fu-panda man. Nothing beats emotional motivation, our motivation is kednaping the hero’s family.

We use an omni to take away the hero’s sister from a signal and his family when they’re shopping simultaneously. The hero will chase the omni cars to the villain’s place on a bike.

Now that they motivation has been initiated we can get into the method.


We use the “Fresh” Formula of Villain being defeated as method. The camera Jooms in and out of the villain standing in middle with of the dusty field. The thugs standing in descending height order from left to middle and ascending height order from middle to right.

Hero has to come flying, sitting over a jeep bonnet, in army dress. (We don’t copy, okay). Audience might wonder how he arrives in a Jeep while he was pursuing them in a bike. That is the twist.

*We won’t tell you. Poda*

With a superhero landing he will dole out very loud punches. The sub-villains signal like a traffic cop to the thugs to go in geometric progression (2 > 4 > 8, I know, maths la weak, pardon me). The hero gives up as they threaten his family. As he falls on the muddy land, Heroine’s voice is heard.


As the drenched heroine (Imagine slow-mo hair swishing) calls out to hero who wakes up with unnaturally red eyes. As the BGM plays in background he fights with a spear saves everyone. He will serve them justice.

Post-fight he will introduce the girl whose father he just beat up. When the family hugs, the villain will shout and point a gun at them. We see the trigger pull and hear a shot.

Police enter and shoot the villain. Movie should end with a duet.


This is the important part of the recipe. We must totally disregard physics laws, More the thugs bounce, better the scene would be. Also, when the wooden weapons will explode when they touch him.

Beating one thug with another, he punches all their faces at once, in one single punch.

As raindrops stylishly roll over his face without impairing his vision, one of the sub villains “poke” him with a knife which doesn’t kill him. Of course he beats them up.  

Then come the 4 big thugs. All of them fall down with one punch. No, he literally shouldn’t touch other 3. He doesn’t kill the main villain, because he is the Villain-in-law.

Side notes

Add comedy and glamour to taste.

Served FDFS

Why you must not have Monday Blues

Almost every Sunday night, I see a meme or a post about Monday coming up, I mean thank you for the giving me a heads-up on the obvious. Pfff, I didn’t know Monday’s followed Sunday! This fear or anxiety of facing a Monday is called widely called as Monday Blues. Monday blues are caused because of anticipating bad things that might happen in the coming week. For this, I would like to offer you a few odd reasons why you should not have Monday blues and must go to getup and get going.

First of all, it pays for your food. You get to eat that seemingly Good looking Italian food that tastes crappy. How are you going to post delicious looking Pictures of that single scoop ice-cream on Instagram with the hashtags, #Foodie, #IceCream, #FoodLove etc? How are you going to transcend from Ai, Phoneu! To iPhone? Because iPhones are the chill yo. If not for your phones how are you going to take selfies in bathrooms with your brush and paste in the frame? What about photos with new dresses that you sneak during purchases but forget the hashtag #TrailRoom? Jobs are important.

If you don’t get up on a Monday, how are you going to get to escape the nose numbing smell from your rented room bathroom which your roommate forgot to wash this weekend(it was his turn), If you have a job you get to pee in well maintained bathrooms! They even have scented Tissues, Yaaii! Do you think you can say, ”Ola cab da”, or “Uberpool machi” after you miss the bus deliberately, if not for the monthly pay?. You won’t be able to post an expert-critic-movie-buff review on the weekly cinema releases, don’t forget the popcorn in which we alpama add the cheese powder!

Can you buy that bike which makes more noise pollution than air pollution? Take photos with tag #RE #DreamBike and all? I don’t think so, because Achcham Enbathu Madamiyada, Dei poda. You can pay for your high-speed broadband over which you watch cute dog and cat videos and other videos that your parents specifically asked you not to watch. If not for salary, how would you afford that data pack through which you browse the newsfeed of your crush and install WhatsApp to get blocked by them?

How else can you feed your high-end indulgences like photography, Gaming, outings, drinking, weed etc? Bro, you need to get up on a Monday morning to go to a Friday evening paarrtaayyy! , think. You can’t flaunt those Jithu Jilladi Kannadi, umbrella dress, oorla-naalu-maadu-Sethu-Pochu colour pants that don’t sit in your hips, pre shedded jeans and the random quote tees that accentuate your beer belly. Or the gym payments you can make to reduce that belly fat. Get up because your dad will start calling you useless-rice, wasteland, thick-cow, ox-cow and you have to rummage all the dappas in kitchen. Job, because the pakkathu veetu aunties and uncles will ask come for panjayathu. Do go to work or get used to watching daily serials with paati and amma, after a point you will be saying “Ithu anniyar oda vela than”. If not for this work, remember, marriage no, matter no, children no. Yosinga…

Well, if you can’t get up after this. Then get up because your appa amma will pour water on you or might switch off your fan. At least go sleep in another place.

If you think you can’t get up on a Monday morning for all these, then get up for YOURSELF.

Get up because your Passion is waiting.

Also, get up because, YOLO.