Goodbye, Sun Music Swamiji
On a regular 2008 Friday night, I was home after school and tuitions. I had finished fighting with my mother about sitting down to study, made my sister cry a little and slumped in my chair.
I had hidden a fantastic Mary Kate and Ashley library book underneath my social science text book and was ready to waste the next three hours pretending to learn.
2008 was when we had moved from our old house to our new one. We- Amma, Anusha and I- were living for the first time all by ourselves. We could do anything but also..not. We had some interesting neighbours.
As residents of the first floor in a G+2 house where one could practically peak into the neighbour's flat and participate in their conversation, I spent a lot of my time tuning my mind to listen to arguments, badly played guitar and sex noises.
As anyone would be in my position- a terribly bored student in 8th standard- I was ready to abandon any and all learning at any and all points by just looking at parak.
On that Friday night, my regular intersting neighbours from the ground floor also decided to spend a regular Friday night.
They decided to watch Sun Music.
.
"டோலு டோலு தான் அடிக்கிறான்
இரு தோலுந் தோலுந்தான் ஒரசுறான்
மேலும் கீழுமாய் இழுக்குறான்
முப்பாலும் கலந்து என்ன கலக்குறான்"
“Dolu dolu thaan adikiran
Iru thozhum thozhum thaan urasuran
Mezhum keezhumaai ilukiraan
Mupaalum kalandhu ennai kalakuran”
More so,
"புலி மானை வேட்டைதான் ஆடிடுமே காட்டில்
மான் புலியை வேட்டைதான் ஆடுமிடம் கட்டில்"
“Puli maanai vettai thaan aadidumae kaatil
Maan puliyai vettai thaan aadum idam kattil”
.
I'll explain why this is strange aside from the overtly sexual lyric.
When we first moved into the house in 2008, the lady from the ground floor, a pudgy woman in her 50s with a ginormous red puttu decided to invite us- my sister and I- to her home and gave us white kalkand. She also asked us to fall at her husband's feet.
"Poi Swamiji kaal thodu pakalam".
At that time, Swamiji was sleeping in his kavi chokka. The whole house was filled with pictures of three-headed snakes including one where Swamiji was kissing one.
They had silver coins, pictures of gods, crazily painted walls and hundreds of photoshopped pictures of Swamiji in lotuses and sitting in Imaya Malai.
Ground floor lady then told Anusha and me about how she lost her sense of smell in a road accident in graphic detail. She told us not to go to the USA because she lived there and hated it because it was filled with pretentious people. She also told us to touch her feet too.
My sister and I looked at each other and did as we were told and then walked out feeling significantly puzzled. We also decided to avoid direct contact with the couple and ran with very basic "Hellos".
Ever since, there have been countless days when we've heard the house playing random mantras at 4 a.m. and then switching to music channels post 8 p.m.
Annually, they have a big fanfare where hundreds of people visit their homes and the entire building smells like Homan smoke for 2 days. After the festivities are over, Sun music continues.
To think that the sleeping Swamiji could watch Asin slithering on the waterbed to Dolu Dolu and singing the lyrics, seems strange and amusing.
Today, amma found out that Sun Music Swamiji died 23 days ago. The ground floor lady had given the watchman strict instructions not to tell anyone anything regarding the deaths.
For 23 days, we haven't heard Tamil songs from the house.
