The great wonderland of gas

You should see the queues lining up at Petrol Bunks in Chennai.

The bunks are going dry and the rumor mills are overflowing. But then if there is no smoke, then it is fair to assume that there is no fire. Sure does look like the country’s oil comapanies have little or no reserves for the common man. Someone said that they are rationing it by state. And giving three days quota at a time. And that the diesel demand rate in India is increasing at 30% per annum - thats doubling every three years. And that the state owned oil companies have simply no wherewithal to match that with supply. One would have called it comic, had it not been farcical, when one sees the rulers summon the oil campanies and order them to “Resume supplies”. Reminds one of the biblical reference of Sam Manekshaw to Indira Gandhi’s call to battle - “let there be light”. The financial planners havent budgeted for light - so how can there be light? What then of the eloquent and adept product of Harvard Business School, our Honorable minister of Finance, Sri PC? Of him, perhaps we should echo the words of Alice in Wonderland - “An author doesn’t necessarily understand the meaning of his own story better than anyone else.” (To which he might respond with another Alice quote “I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir, because I’m not myself you see.”).

Rumors are news now. Roadside murmers have it that some big ocean liners are on the way and that they will be arriving amidst tight security tomorrow night. Roadside rumors whisper that Nero is alive and fiddling and that Reliance is exporting gas. I dont know about  that, but this I do know that many roads in Chennai are periodically dug up. The roads are dig up every few months, creating major traffic stress. This time around they were saying that these have been dug for Reliance. Cable? Or is it gas? Sure wish that there is a seperate ministry for Road Digging in the state. An Alician question comes to mind - “when you have no roads, why do you need gas?”

Coming back to the gas situation. There is talk that dealers are being incentivised to sell less. Now thats an innovative business model.

Nuke-deal deadlock. Gas crisis. Raging inflation. What is Sonia to do? Call for Elections this winter?  “Sentence first — verdict afterwards!” as had said the Queen of Hearts? Perhaps then its time that the Indian electorate looks at the Coalition-Adharma opportunists in the eye and and respond the way Alice did  - “Who cares for you?’ said Alice, (she had grown to her full size by this time.) ‘You’re nothing but a pack of cards!’ “ 

Why Woodlands Drive in was special…

One of my friends, Sowmya Simhan, who founded and runs an NGO that deals with Disability issues, wrote to me about the restaurant.

Physically challenged, she drives around in a specially designed scooter, and is more active than most people.

Sowmya had this to say about the ‘old reliable’.

I give her mail below.

***

dear kamesh,

actually i am very sad today. You know why. because
of the closure of woodlands drive in. You know it was
such a wonderful place. I have been going there for
the past 20 yrs because they used to serve in our
vehicle. I used to sit in my scooter and eat. Even
when you had to go inside there was no steps etc. so
it made things very easy for me.prices were also very
cheap. no parking problem. i cld go there all alone
also.you can be as long as you pl. it was so very
wonderful. we can never get something like this again
in chennai. its a great loss to the glory of chennai.
all that i hope now is that these polituicians dont
mess it up by making it another concrete jungle.

sowmya

****

Sowmya runs an organization called Sukriti Social Foundation.

You can see their website at http://www.sukriti.org/

And you can know more about Sowmya at:

http://www.sukriti.org/about/people

For whom the Cathedral bells tolled….

They closed down Woodlands Drive in yesterday.

Cathedral Road, Chennai, will never be the same again.

Todays Hindu reports that by an order of the High Court, the drive in restaurant stands closed from Friday 11, Feb, 2008. Feels as if one more nail has been driven into the coffin of ‘old and gentle’ Madras. Woodlands Drive in : Rest in Peace.

The saving grace is that it seems that the Government wants to convert that campus into a botanical / horticulture garden. Thats what they say. Time will tell.

Woodlands belongs to the collective memory of most who have been in Chennai (e.k.a Madras city). A sort of Mysore touch in the middle of Madras - A Malgudi hotel on the road that connected Marina to Gemini Studio. One still remembers the arch of Gemini Studio at that end of Cathedral Road. All that has gone. The friendly environment of USIS Library (United States Information Service, that was in the US Consulate there), has been trasformed into an Alcatraz sort of barbwired fortress. And the last of the bastions, the friendly Woodlands Drive In restaurant, has now downed its shutters.

What a watering hole it was. People from all walks of life converged there. There were the legends like the famous playback singer PB Srinivasan, with his characteristic cap, a dozen pens sticking out of his shirt pocket, sitting in the Self-service side of that restaurant, composing and writing lyrics for new songs. Industrialists like Arjun Raja, who would come directly from Board Meetings, to enjoy the open-air-ambiance, delicious tiffin and coffee. Or the youngsters from colleges nearby. Families…And the germinators of Software Industry - the young colts from TCS offices in Lloyds Road, Cathedral Road and Bishop Wallers Avenue….

Tin-steel-topped tables. Old fashioned wooden chairs. A choice of dishes. A just-right dish of Pongal Avial, a cool-cool dish of Bagaala Bath, a greasy spread of Chana-Batura, a nice large plate of Masala Dosa, or simple dishes of bisi-bele-bath, or tomato rice with pachdi…Coffee in Tumbler-Davara, sugar seperate.

And after that, to relax on the circular platform in the shade of the spreading Peepal tree, chewing pieces of poisonous paakku (supaari).

After a lapse of many years, by some stroke of providence, I visited “Woodlands Drive In” just a week ago. On a hot afternoon, I walked across to the restaurant, and had a plate of Chana-Batura. I had no idea that it was going to be closed down soon, but did get a sepulchral sort of feeling as I looked around. But the old tastes still lingered. The old waiters were still there. It was like seeing an old, classic, black and white movie, once more. It felt like home.

That home now is no more.

Goodbye Woodlands Drive in. Goodbye you ‘old reliable’, and God Bless.

***

Folks! The Memorial Register is open. Type in your tributes.

News Views

I am not sure if you will agree, but I feel that the vernacular press in India is more fun than the English. Not that I am an expert on newspapers, but on the occasions that I read the stuff, I find that there is an underlying ‘lightness of being’ that is communicated in the vernacular, which is quite in contrast to the “serious, men at work, I am Atlas carrying the globe, dont mess with me, I tell you what to think” kind of approach of the English media.

Here is an example of a news item that I came across the other day in a Tamil newspaper. Its about birds. I am giving a rough translation below. I may be off in terms of translation accuracy, but you’ll get the general picture. Enjoy.

From Vizag to Tuticorin, the Pigeon Race

Tuticorin, March 28:

In a pigeon race held from Vizag to Tuticorin, a pigeon belonging to Mr Kannan created a record by flying the distance in nine days.

Tuticorin Waxing Moon Pigeons Race club has been organizing pigeon races from places like Vizhuppuram, Madurai, Vizag etc, to Tuticorin, for the last 23 years. In all these years, no pigeon has managed to make it from Vizag to Tuticorin.

This year, on 3rd March, at 7 am, the Vizag-Tuticorin pigeon race was flagged off. 16 pigeons, belonging to 4 people, participated. The pigeons were flagged off by referees Venancius and Ravichandran. The distance of around 1438 kilometers was completed first by a pigeon belonging to Mr Kannan, which arrived in Tuticorin on 12th at around 4 pm, thereby setting a record.

Thereafter, at around 4:50 pm, a pigeon belonging to Mr Anburaj, and then on 15th morning 6:50 am, a pigeon belonging to Mr Veluswamy flew in, to get the second and third prize respectively. 

Saluting The Sultan

The Sultan of Multan - Virender Sehwag - The Nawab of Najafgad…

We bow to you.

What an innings in Chennai today. He decimated the South African bowling attack. Scoring 300 in 278 balls. The fastest triple century in test cricket. And he joins Sir Don Bradman and Brian Lara - having scored triple century twice in test cricket.

Look at this King’s record. Ten successive times in test, when he went on from 100 to complete 150…

And talking to Ramiz at end of day today, the Emperor of Indian Test Cricket said : “I had to do this today. For it hurt being dropped. I wanted to prove that I belong here.”.

India needs to thank Chennai.

For giving their King of Cricket back to them.

Pradosham of Panguni

Pradosham day.

Driving to Ramana Kendra, negotiating the turns of Luz Church Road, one knew that there was something afoot. The cars that were on the road seemed to be vibrating at a higher frequency, if you get what I mean. There was some electricity in the air. And then I realized…It is the Aruvathimoovar day – the evening of the procession of icons of the sixty three Saiva Saints – the Nayanmaars!

Ramana Kendra was a picture of peace. The Pradosham worship had concluded at 6 pm. Devotees had left. A one on one with Ramana. It was like being a lone sea gull in the vastness of sky. I basked in that ambience of grace and stepped out. And like the gull, I decided to dive into the ocean – of Aruvathimoovar!

Walked down the Sai Baba temple road. Density of people was very high and getting higher with every step. Hawkers on both sides of the road. Selling all kinds of stuff. “65 Rupees! 65 Rupees! Just 65 Rupees for a Saree!” screamed one hawker. Bangles, toys, eats, clothes…all sorts of stuff. A riot of colors. And as I moved closer to the Kapalishwara temple tank, I was in the ocean…Of people…People, people everywhere. The procession of icons was slowly making its way around the tank. Cops were doing the best they could. The first little chariot that I saw had the Goddess Kolavizhi Amman. Grand. The next one had Goddess Periyanayaki and Lord Valeeshwara…Many more to follow…The towers of Kapalee Temple and other nearby temples were all shimmering with festival lights. How is one to convey the atmosphere! You don’t see so many people in one place. It was like Kumbh Mela, a furnace of human energy. An ocean of joy. Thousands and thousands of microcosms, all doing a dance of bubbles, and moving as one large macrocosm of vibrance,  resonant with the celestials. No longer is one just oneself.. One becomes the whole mass of people.

I look up at the heavens. The near-full moon looks down from up high, like Gods sentinel in the sky. All is swell in the world…

The boy who came in from the cold…

Suresh is a general odd-job man. He runs a video business. He also runs a food business. And more.

Sometime around 8 pm tonight, Suresh walked in to my home, bringing this young mentally challenged boy. Looked to be around 10 or 12 years of age. This boy was apparently roaming around, lost, near a photo shop. Suresh has had some experience filming children in special schools, and so could empathize. He tried speaking to the boy, but couldn’t get a proper response. He waited for an hour on the road, but no one came looking for the boy. Then he brought the boy to my home, for my better half runs a special school, and may be able to help. He dropped the boy here and went away.

Now, this boy could speak only four words - Amma, Appa, Anna, Aaya. Nothing else. He was at peace. He didn’t seem perturbed at all. Any question put to him brought only one or more of these four words in response.

I spoke to him in Tamil, asking his name. Suddenly he said something that sounded like Asmir. I asked him “Asmir?”…He said “Anna”…It went on like this, and I thought he said “Asif”…I asked “Asif?”…He said “Amma”….

“Which school?” Ambika asked. She named one special school after another, all to no avail. “Amma, Anna, Appa, Aaya” was all he said. He did respond to one school name. But soon ignored it.

This being Deepavali eve, we had some sweets at home. We gave his some Adirasam. He just ate it up in no time. I asked him if he wanted more. He nodded. And had more.

Now, this boy had no identification. All he had was two labels from a dress-brand, and a bunch of bit-papers (say 40, 50 of them), all with “Sri Rama Jayam” written in Tamizh. That’s all he had.

The boy sat in front of me. Silence. Above, in the wall behind him, was a picture of Ramana Maharshi. I looked at Him. He smiled from the picture.

Meanwhile, Ambika, my better half, was busy. She called Rekha, who runs another special school, Matru Mandir, to figure out if she might be able to help identify this child. Rekha is a real metal person, and she soon sent her driver and her nephew. Idea was to photograph the boy, and then have it given to TV Channels, and to register the details with the local police.

Some arrangement was also being made for housing the boy for the night in a special home.

Just as we were about to leave, Suresh landed up again, bringing a man and another boy. They were family! They were absolutely overjoyed to see the boy! Suresh had gone and waited at the local cop station, and sure enough these folks had landed up there, all in a huff. And he brought them here.

It was sheer drama. They were all emotion. They fell at Suresh’s feet. He jumped.

I asked them the boy’s name. They said “Ramesh!”…Nothing that I thought of!

“Which school does he go to?” asked Ambika.

Turned out that they weren’t sending him to any school. The person who came was Ramesh’s fathers elder brother, Shankar. And the youngster was Ramesh’s elder brother, Ganesh. Ramesh’s father it seems is a painter. Well, we gave them details of Rasa, the special school run by Ambika, quite near Ramesh’s home. Shankar was overjoyed. I noted down their details…

What an evening…

All wasn’t so well that ended so well!

Happy Deepavali! 

Remembering the Mahatma

The Gandhi Statue at the Chennai Marina seashore looked somewhat different.

Every year, on October 2^nd - Mahatma Gandhi Jayanti - finds this statue at the center of attention. The statue, inaugurated by the then Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru in 1959, is erected on a high pedestal, out of reach from terra-firma. Usually, on the Jayanti day, the authorities construct makeshift wooden steps leading to a large wooden platform that is around chest-height of the statue. There is usually a constant stream of people, walking up to pay their respects…The platform would be strewn with flowers that have fallen off the innumerable garlands that people bring along. School kids would line up for pictures. You could chance to see some old Gandhians as well, conspicuous by their Khadi dress and radiant, ascetic bearing. You may chance to hear someone walk up there and sing “Raghupati Raghava Raja Ram”…Oh yes, there would be the usual posse of press and TV cameramen as well. Overall, it would make for a very nice ambience…

No steps or platform this year.   

Perhaps it was because of the bandh-that-was-not-a-bandh yesterday at Chennai. Or maybe not. Whatever it is, the statue had no scaffolding or steps. It was quite as usual, with some nice floral decorations around the pedestal and a large garland stretching from the neck to the feet of the statue.

Lots of flag bearing workers of different political parties had gathered in front of the statue. Lots of cameramen, of course. Imperial looking, flag-bearing, big-cars horned non-stop as they pulverized their right of way to the venue. Lots of cars and auto-rickshaws with posters of different political parties and politicians.

Someone garlanded the Sivaji Ganesan statue that has been erected just across in the middle of the road, about forty five degrees to the left of Gandhi statue.

The weather was perfect. It had rained a bit last night and the sky was cloudy and the breeze was nice and refreshing…

Here’s a picture from the venue…

As one stood around, mouthing a silent prayer to the Mahatma, the lines of Mahatma Gandhi’s favorite hymn - Vaishnava Jana to - rang in one’s mind.

Vaishnav jan to tene kahiye je
PeeD paraayi jaaNe re
Par-dukhkhe upkaar kare toye
Man abhimaan na aaNe re

Here is a free translation of the hymn…

Him, one should call as a Vaishnava,
A true devotee of God,
Who feels the pain of others
Who helps those in distress
Who allows not pride to enter his mind.

Bowing humbly to all, speaking ill of none,
Pure his speech, deeds, thoughts,
Blessed, O Blessed, is his mother…

Looking at all with equal eye
Having renounced all sensual desires
Considers para-stree as his mother
His tongue may tire but will utter no lie
He touches not others’ wealth…

Delusion-moh-maya binds him not
His mind is rooted in firm renunciation
He is ever tasting the elixir of the name of Rama
His body and mind, are the whole lot of holy places…

He has no greed, no deceit,
Has renounced all lust and anger,
For whose sight, thirsts Narsi (the poet)
Whose virtue liberates one’s whole lineage!

**

As one leaves  the venue,  one remembers Delhi as well, and the last words of the Mahatma…

Ananda

“Print Less, Save More…. Think Twice Before you hit that ‘Print’ button… A Single printout costs paper, ink and electricity….You will be saving all three…”, says a message that shows  a printer in Red, and many nice circles of ‘Green’ around it…

Brightly designed and printed on the best of paper… Nice poster this, pasted on every wall of all buildings of my office…I smile at the irony, and remember the Vedantic maxim that you need a thorn to remove a thorn…

Leaving the walls behind, I go for a drive…and I walk into a campus of acres wild…Lots of trees…This is perhaps ‘no-gardening’ season in this campus, as tall weeds are waving in abandon….Nice breeze, bringing in the smell of the sea…twenty minutes later, I reach a near empty beach. The sea to myself. …the sea seems in a nice, frisky mood today…waves rush in, bringing a foamy look, bubbling…I lift a palmful of the ocean… we play… had this been soap water, it would have been an ideal setting t blow nice, large, colorful soap bubbles…gentle drops of rain join the game… I turn to see the Sun joining as well… The evening Sun, bright yellow, changing colors, going down… as I gaze at the Sun, a fellow walker, coming towards me, smiles, lifts his hand and waves an arc, pointing the sky behind me…I turn back to the sea, and look skywards…

A double rainbow… visible end-to-end…the two ends rising out of the sea…a beautiful semicircle rising up, high, into the sky… peering through the semicircle, I feel as if I am a part of the retina of  the eye of the sky…

…such joy…money can’t buy…

Its an Ad, ad, ad world…

One of the enduring memories I have of tongas in old time Delhi is the blinkers that the horses wore. Also called ‘blinders’, these help the horses to look straight ahead, and be blind to peripheral distractions.

Now that’s real horse sense. Something we humans could do with - what with all the ‘mindgrab’ that the world attempts to do.

Drive down any  decent stretch of road in any of the metros. What do you see (other than the traffic)? Hoardings, hoardings and more hoardings, of all sizes. It is an all out assault on the senses. And in Chennai, for instance, the scale is colossal. You cant lift your eyes without it being taken by some advertisement or the other. Politicians take the cake. They are all over. Then the commercial adverts - with titillating models displaying their wares. If you think that you can somehow escape by exercising iron will over  your eyes, and not allow it to turn left or right, you are wrong. In the median divider in the middle of the road,  you may well be subjected to an endless row of advertisement signs, an Ad every ten or fifteen feet. Timed to perfection, one advert per one blink of your eyes in a moving car. Slam, slam, slam…it just goes on and on - there is no escape.

Same is the case with TV. You cant see a decent cricket match without offering yourself as a sacrificial victim at the altar of commerce. Ads, ads, all the time. Between the overs, and during the overs too. When a fellow scores a boundary, or a fifty or a hundred, or when a wicket falls, or during water breaks…Just imagine having to put up with the same Ad over and over again…For eg, this ad of some email website, which shows a man clad in just his underwear running out into the streets screaming his “yoooooreka” joy about the website…or that one by a cell phone company that demonstrates how slim their phones are, by showing a man and a woman slashing each others clothes with the cell phone in a fence fight of sorts….

And then they sms ads to your cell phones. And hound you with calls….”Mr Defenseless! You have been selected to receive our Gold Card, free of charge…”

Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!