Onna Vida: Because Being Together Is Enough!

Celebrating the sensual delight that this masterpiece is…

-Mani Prabhu

The piece works best when it’s read with the track playing in the background.

It’s so quiet that all he could hear are her laboured breaths.

And then, there is this startling crackling of her necklace, caught under his neck.

They shudder for a moment, almost losing themselves to the unexpected rustle. But again, she smiles.

He responds with a sultry twinkle and pulls her closer.

Her body is now almost interlaced in his. Just like the creepers braiding themselves under water. For a moment, you imagine an invisible rope tying them down together. She seems lost… somewhere within him, only to find herself reveling in the drift.

அல்லி கொடிய காத்து அசைக்குது
அசையும் கொளத்துக்கொடம்பு கூசுது
புல்லரிச்சு பாவம் என்னை போலவே அலை பாயுது!

The union of their souls. It now seems like the inevitable.

They lay bare, eating into each other, beneath the moonlit sky, enveloped by the stars.

He slithers over her neck. She doesn’t resist. But, she swerves a wee bit.

A gasp breaks into a fiery kiss.

She can now feel his heart-beat on her chest. Does it bother her? Or is it the wet embrace?

He nibbles on her earlobes for a while, as she crumbles in passion. The sensual breeze adds to her torment.

நிலவில் காயும் வேட்டி சேலையும்
நம்மை பார்த்து சோடி சேருது
சேர்த்து வைச்ச காத்த துதி பாடுது சுதி சேருது!

What must be running in her mind, as he pauses to whisper his love in her ears, tightening his grip around her waist, all the while?

A shiver sizzling down her spine, she retracts her head a bit, and manages a half-simper.

He murmurs a little louder, letting his wet lips linger over her hair-line for an extra second, making sure that she gets the playful scorn.

It works. She instantly gives in to the charm. As the ripples get quicker, she pulls harder at his torso, letting her finger-nails run through his bare shoulders, all the way down to his palpable sacrum.

என்ன புது தாகம்…
அனல் ஆகுதே என் தேகம்!

He trembles instantly, giving out a muffled wail – a complicated series of agonized, rising vowels – and as if realizing the unintended breach of quietude, tries to hide it in a manly quiver and loosens his grasp a little.

Has she touched one of his ‘spots’ unknowingly? Had she gripped him too tight? 

And the next moment, their eyes meet briefly, begging for an explanation.

Enough of all the strokes and the tease… Her gaze screams. He didn’t hear it. But, it’s loud and clear, resounding through the shaggy ends of the tall branches.

Between the unlikely sweat in the coldness of the silvery waters, and the slippery rocks – random pieces of clothing scattered on the banks – they consume their love in the shallows, underneath a blanket of stars.

யாரு சொல்லி தந்து வந்தது…
காணா கனா வந்து கொல்லுது
இதுக்கு பேரு தான் மோட்சமா!

How would it be if none of this ever ended? The love, the passion, the overwhelming sense of completion…

As she loses herself in the sensual haze, that’s probably the only thing she could think of.

உன் கூட நான் கூடி இருந்திட
எனக்கு ஜென்மம் ஒன்னு போதுமா..
நூறு ஜென்மம் வேணும், கேட்குறேன் சாமிய!

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Kodai Kaala Kaatre: A Burst of Blissful Nostalgia!

Celebrating the song that a generation, warming up to sophomore first-love, went crazy about…

-Mani Prabhu 

The piece works best when it’s read with the track playing in the background.

You remember that third-semester college trip to Kodaikanal, when you were clinging on to last row of the bus with your horde, immersed in the glorious boys’ ruckus, and she, for no particular reason, turned back, giving that piercing stare and you almost froze in the middle of that “ohhhhhhhh” that was dedicated to someone you can’t finitely recall…

Did she know then that you liked her? Was it some sort of an affectionate nudge, so that she could get the point across and also maintain a ‘decorum’ before her friends?

Thinking of it, did she mean anything at all? To you? To your teenage sentiments?

The tea-shop incident on the thirteenth hairpin-bend didn’t help, right? To make things clearer.

When you were passing the hot glasses one by one, getting each one from the sweater and monkey-cap clad master at the counter, and she standing next to you, holding every cup just for a little more, letting your fingers graze over hers for an extra split-second, all the while, holding onto a mockingly reactionless face…

What kind of “tease” was that?

That inebriated look that wouldn’t descend from your face, as you tried sipping your tea, walking up to that lonely boulder – a good two hundred hundred meters from where your bus was parked! “Dude, you got stoned?”  That confused guy’s doubt still rings in your ears, doesn’t it?

While you were staring at the mountains that seemed less mysterious compared to her that day, did she steal a moment’s gaze from the other side of the road?

How simple would it have been if it had ended there! For you. And for the world around.

But did it? Why should the rotis be over, all of a sudden, before you could finish your crazy photo-shoots and come take your plateful, on the lunch-spread in the lawns, the second day? Why should she notice that, in the hustle of all that compelling girly chit-chat… walk all the way from her gang, and offer you a couple? Why should you, despite having your favourite chicken curry already on the plate, deny at first, then take them and scurry back to your pack as fast as your legs could carry!

Were you indeed, somewhat special to her, in that bunch? Was something truly bursting out? As if, from a cocoon?

You could have known better, if only had she chosen to talk, instead of merely lifting her hands clearly in your direction, as if coaxing you to pull her on to the Dolphin’s nose, when there were at least twenty other boys around, only happy to help. But did she?

All these could have just been a loner’s romantic reverie if only… Yes, if only had she not stared into your eyes that way, straight through the flicker of the bonfire on the gardens of the youth hostel, on the third and final night of that fateful trip.

But alas!

Life had to get back to normal. Destiny had to give that sarcastic sigh.

Lectures, purely work related lab meets, gleeful hi-fis in elaborate birthday bashes, benign beach photographs with loads of feigned comfort, ridiculous doubts about the bare basics to just-pass the painful internals, all these and more.. but, if only had she told what was running in her mind, before you came to know, on a random sixth semester evening that she was going steady with the lead-singer of your college band.

Reality had to give that confusing slap. That was the “design”.

Irrespective of the kind of practical ‘so-so’ that transpires in this story from then on-wards… when after a couple of decades, you drive up Kodai in your car with this song playing in the stereo, you will look back fondly at all these images playing out in retro wave freeze-frames, and realize in a moment of gooseflesh-worthy nostalgia, why all these had to happen.

Till then, hang on. Life is good with Raja around.

Aasaiya Kaathula Thoothu Vittu: One Hell of a Sensual Trip

Do you know that you could go insane by continually pondering on the circumstances under which Raja comes up with tunes like Aasaiya Kaathula Thoodu Vittu

How does it work? Is it about a mysterious muse?

Is he truly and hopelessly inebriated on lust? Or is he just pretending to be?

Is he acing the moment by teleporting himself into the carnal nooks of the human psyche?

Or is he just playing God, by conjuring up emotions with a mere flutter of his fingers over the keys?

How can someone, in the real world, hit upon the idea of using this otherworldly ‘violin-bit’ for opening a supposed item-song, which in turn leads up to the such kinky percussions?

Even as you accede to Raja’s inborn knack of defying artistic rationale, Shailaja’s mesmerizing rendition builds up on a weird kind of erotic rhythm, which intertwines your reality with that of a raunchy dream.

You could almost sense the hedonic arousal now. Its a magician toying with your sensuality. As if that isn’t enough to detonate your already charged-up synapses, the simultaneous kindling of the soul and the hormones also makes you question your own amorous sensibilities. Its befuddling.

The scintillating flute, the provocative strings, and all the orgasmic-humming grace the magnificent interludes with an unparalleled fizz, further edging up the muddled libido.

It slowly starts to inch beyond the confines of ‘words’. Like being pulled into a lavish whorehouse and offered the option of bailing out, in return for a specific-something. Its a trap. An insanely brilliant one at that.

But two aspects underline the track’s uniqueness, even under the unapologetic shadow of Raja’s super-sensual orchestration. The first is the visuals that never at any moment, border on ribaldry. And the second is the delightfully minimalist choreography that lends a whole new dimension to eroticism.

When a gifted seductress like Subashini is involved, rhythmic heel-taps, subtle shoulder-jabs and piercing stares are all that are needed to bump the spectator’s hormone levels to hazardous heights

Lesson well learnt.