(by Macaulay Perapulla)
I still remember the first update I got from Facebook about Vivek being admitted to the hospital. It was around 8 PM. It was the first surge of panic. “Oh God, Please don’t take him away”. And when my parents opened the TV set in the morning, the news hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t control my tears.
And honestly, my own reaction surprised me. I mean, I loved him to pieces. If you were born in the eighties and went to college during the 2000s, he was everywhere. His puns were the warp and woof of our language. He was a master at “kalaai” (There is no translation for this word) and we all wanted to be like him.
Perhaps, death does show a strange mirror to us. It shows us who we are from the prism of the relationships that held us all the while until a flick of light suddenly vanishes us. Poof! When the light suddenly vanishes, the absence is stark. The loss shakes you in ways you never expected it to.
Perhaps, that’s the fate of all comedians in this part of the country, who often, by strange coincidences, came with a larger package of talents than we cared to appreciate. They deserved far more recognition as actors, as singers, as musicians, than comedians with a bag full of punch lines and witty repartees.
When I look back at Vivek, more than anything else, my mind yearns to remember the reticent thaai maaman in Alaipayuthey. When I look back at Chandrababu, I remember him for his trendsetting music. (Do we care to rave about how liberating his music sounds even today?) When I look back at Nagesh, I want to remember how he broke my heart in Nammavar.
Perhaps, this has something to do with the perennial ‘sakhi’ myth comedians in this part of the country are fated to be in. ‘Sakhis’ have always been an important, albeit sidelined presence in the Indian mythology. ‘Sakhi’ is not just a friend, but a trusted advisor, and has the luxury of being a witness to the drama the poor hero goes through.
Perhaps, it is this emotional distance which gave them the ability to crack jokes. To look at reality in ways that are untrained to the hero’s ( and therefore our) eyes. It is this spiritual quality that attracts us in subliminal ways. We may see them as ‘sidekick’, enjoy their jokes and move on. It’s only when they pass, do we get a glimmer of the magnitude of the loss!
I will always miss the eternal sakhi Vivek !
Baradwaj Rangan 
H. Prasanna
May 6, 2021
Macaulay Perapulla seems like something Vivekh would say to kalaai a hero friend!
LikeLike
Macaulay Perapulla
May 7, 2021
I dearly wish:) He did one of his sketches mocking the language deficiencies of Indo Anglians during the nineties. Remember that news bit audition sketch?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Madan
May 7, 2021
Wonderful piece Venky. It is a strange world. Joe Rogan’s podcast sold to Spotify for $100mn while the entire masters of rock icon and Nobel Laureate Bob Dylan went for $300 mn. I mean, Rogan is just an average comedian who hit a centre-right zeitgeist and laced it with some dubious opinions, that’s all. It’s gruesome, absolutely gruesome, how mediocre stand up comics in the US are enjoying so much fame currently while even the best musicians find their work is not valued anymore.
OTOH yes, the situation in India where we had amazing comedians but never elevated them above sidekick when they richly deserved to. Almost as if comedians are punished for looking more like, well, us as opposed to the airbrushed, mythical personality cult that a ‘hero’ enjoys.
LikeLiked by 1 person
H. Prasanna
May 7, 2021
@Macaulay yeah and I remember the ending of that sketch too. The Tamil-lover grows weary and old beyond his years, whereas his father (also Vivekh) who embraced English (literally marries an Englishwoman) is youthful and happy.
Vivekh’s lines were parlance during my college days, so was Goundamani and Vadivelu. We had a informal group inspired by Varuththapadatha Valibar Sangam of Winner. Often we gathered at our regular tea/juice shop, I would greet my friends with one of Vivekh’s less-known lines with Vadivelu.
Vivekh: Sangangal saagara varaikkum kootam poduvom (Unions organize meetings until death.)
Vadivelu: Sethathuku apparum? (After death?)
Vivekh: Irangal kootam poduvom (We organize funeral meetings.)
LikeLike
Macaulay Perapulla
May 7, 2021
@Madan Yes, it’s terrible how much we undervalue our comedians. Its ironic that we celebrate heroes who treat us like children and not comedians who deeply provoke us to see a different world.
LikeLiked by 1 person