Hindi film music chronicler @myswar. Writer/compiler of the BollySwar book series. I post about music, movies, TV, travel, food, Bengaluru, Mangaluru, Kerala.
A new volume of the BollySwar series is out - BollySwar: 1951 - 1960. This covers the Hindi film music of the 1950s, the most influential decade of Hindi cinema. The impact of the Hindi films and Hindi film music made in this period lasts to this day. https://t.co/5BHN6EqVmg
A memory on reading - I read the entire Mahabharata (C. Rajagopalachari's retelling) to my grandfather when he was on his deathbed. I was in my 11th standard then. Multiple readings over a few days. He was weak and slowly slipping away but listened intently with a gentle smile on his face. Every now and then, he'd correct my pronunciation of the name of a character or a place. Despite his weakness, I don't remember him dozing off while I was reading. He'd ask me to pause when he needed rest. I finished the book just days before he passed away.
Memories of the "games" my grandfather used to play with me and my cousins:
Thatha had lost almost all his teeth by his mid 70s and could only enjoy vethalai (paan) after grinding the ingredients - vethalai, chunambu (lime) and paaku (betel nut) shavings - to a fine consistency using a small mortar/pestle. Thatha turned this mundane chore into something magical! Us grandkids would compete to get a chance to be called upon by thatha for the great honour of grinding vethalai for him. Being called to perform this task was like an award but it didn't end there. Each of us put in our heart and soul into grinding the vethalai to perfection. When we were done, thatha would examine our work. At times, he would send us back to grind some more. Once done, he would consume the ground vethalai with relish - and this led to another exciting moment for us - waiting with bated breath to see if our efforts had paid off. More often than not, thatha would reward us with a joyful smile and that was enough to make the day for us.
Thatha knew how big a deal the vethalai grinding task was for us and leveraged it to his advantage. It became the reward for his popular manchaadi games. Like many Kerala homes, our home in Alleppey had a manchaadi tree whose fruit contained bright red seeds. These seeds would fall on the ground and my cousins and I would collect them and take it to thatha. He would ask us to go inside and from his favourite easychair in the front room, he would randomly throw the manchaadi seeds in the large sandy area in front of the house. He would let us loose once he was done. The kid who recovered the highest number of manchaadi seeds would get the privilege of grinding his vethalai. Winning the manchaadi game AND getting to be the recipient of his post-vethalai smile?! Our chests would swell with pride and we would walk on air!!
I still cherish that child-like quality of thatha. He was feared and respected by our elders (and by us too at times) but he could also be one of us when he wanted. A 70+ year old Tom Sawyer who got his friends to paint his fence AND get an apple in return!
Memories of the "games" my grandfather used to play with me and my cousins:
Thatha had lost almost all his teeth by his mid 70s and could only enjoy vethalai (paan) after grinding the ingredients - vethalai, chunambu (lime) and paaku (betel nut) shavings - to a fine consistency using a small mortar/pestle. Thatha turned this mundane chore into something magical! Us grandkids would compete to get a chance to be called upon by thatha for the great honour of grinding vethalai for him. Being called to perform this task was like an award but it didn't end there. Each of us put in our heart and soul into grinding the vethalai to perfection. When we were done, thatha would examine our work. At times, he would send us back to grind some more. Once done, he would consume the ground vethalai with relish - and this led to another exciting moment for us - waiting with bated breath to see if our efforts had paid off. More often than not, thatha would reward us with a joyful smile and that was enough to make the day for us.
Thatha knew how big a deal the vethalai grinding task was for us and leveraged it to his advantage. It became the reward for his popular manchaadi games. Like many Kerala homes, our home in Alleppey had a manchaadi tree whose fruit contained bright red seeds. These seeds would fall on the ground and my cousins and I would collect them and take it to thatha. He would ask us to go inside and from his favourite easychair in the front room, he would randomly throw the manchaadi seeds in the large sandy area in front of the house. He would let us loose once he was done. The kid who recovered the highest number of manchaadi seeds would get the privilege of grinding his vethalai. Winning the manchaadi game AND getting to be the recipient of his post-vethalai smile?! Our chests would swell with pride and we would walk on air!!
I still cherish that child-like quality of thatha. He was feared and respected by our elders (and by us too at times) but he could also be one of us when he wanted. A 70+ year old Tom Sawyer who got his friends to paint his fence AND get an apple in return!
Memories of the "games" my grandfather used to play with me and my cousins:
Thatha had lost almost all his teeth by his mid 70s and could only enjoy vethalai (paan) after grinding the ingredients - vethalai, chunambu (lime) and paaku (betel nut) shavings - to a fine consistency using a small mortar/pestle. Thatha turned this mundane chore into something magical! Us grandkids would compete to get a chance to be called upon by thatha for the great honour of grinding vethalai for him. Being called to perform this task was like an award but it didn't end there. Each of us put in our heart and soul into grinding the vethalai to perfection. When we were done, thatha would examine our work. At times, he would send us back to grind some more. Once done, he would consume the ground vethalai with relish - and this led to another exciting moment for us - waiting with bated breath to see if our efforts had paid off. More often than not, thatha would reward us with a joyful smile and that was enough to make the day for us.
Thatha knew how big a deal the vethalai grinding task was for us and leveraged it to his advantage. It became the reward for his popular manchaadi games. Like many Kerala homes, our home in Alleppey had a manchaadi tree whose fruit contained bright red seeds. These seeds would fall on the ground and my cousins and I would collect them and take it to thatha. He would ask us to go inside and from his favourite easychair in the front room, he would randomly throw the manchaadi seeds in the large sandy area in front of the house. He would let us loose once he was done. The kid who recovered the highest number of manchaadi seeds would get the privilege of grinding his vethalai. Winning the manchaadi game AND getting to be the recipient of his post-vethalai smile?! Our chests would swell with pride and we would walk on air!!
I still cherish that child-like quality of thatha. He was feared and respected by our elders (and by us too at times) but he could also be one of us when he wanted. A 70+ year old Tom Sawyer who got his friends to paint his fence AND get an apple in return!
@h03607037 I was the studious type and my parents would worry I work too hard. So when I took a break to read a novel or comic during exams, they'd be relieved. :-)
🚨NEW INVESTIGATION: A Fortune 500 company reportedly cancelled a @HinduAmerican training session after employees circulated its Wikipedia page.
That page tells readers HAF aligns with Hindu nationalism, threatens academic freedom, and has been accused of acting as a foreign agent.
We traced who built that narrative. The same handful of accounts kept appearing across HAF, its critics, activist groups, and key public figures—building an interconnected narrative that now feeds Google and AI systems.
Full investigation in thread. Receipts 👇
Probable Ministers in Congress government in Karnataka
Siddaramaiah's son
Gundu Roa's son
Bangarappa's son
Dharam Singh's son
Kharge's son
Muniyappa's daughter
Byre Gowda's son
Motamma's daughter
Bachhe Gowda's Son
We're finally shedding the .so (thank you Somalia!), and using the .com for @NotionHQ. And for this beautiful moment, I want to share a fun story:
Back in 2018, I had just joined Notion, and one of the first things @ivan asked me to do was figure out how we could own https://t.co/BxoFvc83VG. I had never done a big domain purchase before, so I reached out to a few domain brokers to understand the landscape. We tried different brokers, kept things anonymous, and attempted to surface a price the seller might consider.
A year went by… nothing. Meanwhile, it was pretty clear this was only going to get more expensive as we grew. We needed a different approach. A fellow founder connected me to a broker who took a very different tack. Less transactional, more long-term relationship builder. He spent months getting to know the domain owner. Turns out owner was a fellow entrepreneur in the west coast… and a huge Grateful Dead fan.
So we figured, why not get creative? Something beyond just price. So I called up our investor Ronny Conway and asked if there was any way he could help set up a private meeting between the domain owner and the Grateful Dead. Ronny is one of those people who somehow makes impossible things possible. A week later he calls me back: “New York City. Halloween. 15 minutes after the concert. Done.”
The broker went back to the owner with an offer: some cash, some equity, and a private meeting with the Grateful Dead. That got his attention. He didn’t take the band meeting in the end, but he did lean into the equity (great call, in hindsight). We shook hands, and a few weeks later, the deal was done.
I’ve been waiting years for the day we move our product to https://t.co/BxoFvc83VG. Looks like 2026 is finally the year. Safe to say I’m unreasonably excited about this update!
The headline (in TNIE) will show what is wrong in TN today. That belonging to one caste (Brahmin) is some mistake, and the Minister has to specifically address that. (It was literally the ground of opposition to his appointment). That is how normalised this bigotry by the Ds.
Suman Kalyanpur passed away yesterday. The resemblance between her voice and Lata Mangeshkar’s was so uncanny that music lovers often mistook her songs for Lata’s. She did not reach the heights scaled by the Mangeshkar sisters, but she was a worthy challenger.
This 4,500-year-old terracotta dice from the Indus-Saraswati Civilization is a powerful reminder of India’s living heritage. Dicing is also mentioned as a popular game in Rig and Atharva Vedas (two of the four sacred Vedic scriptures).
From symbols and craftsmanship to rituals, yogic practices, and collective memory, numerous elements of ancient Indian civilization continue to thrive in the daily social and religious life of Indian society across regions and communities.
Civilizational inheritance is not just about geography or ruins, it is defined by living customs, symbols, rituals, and unbroken cultural consciousness. India is the enduring living continuity of the Indus-Saraswati Civilization.
#IndusSaraswatiCivilization #AncientIndianHeritage