Registered with the Registrar of Newspapers for India under R.N.I 53640/91
Vol. XXVI No. 19, January 16-31, 2017
What exactly is happening in our State? Are we caught in some kind of an -activity trap from which we do not see any signs of emerging? Is there a paralysis in terms of policy? We as a publication concerned with the well being of our State and City sincerely hope that this is not so, but all indicators point that way. True, routine administration is going on as usual, giving everyone the impression that all is well, but if someone in office is thinking about the future, we do not see any indications of that. It is the responsibility of the elected executive to take this on, and, today, for various reasons, that is not happening.
We understand that illnesses and death are a part of human life and can strike anyone at any time. But if there is a larger responsibility for which political organisations are created (and it is they who govern policy), that cannot be given the go by in the interests of immediate political challenges of succession. And this is happening at a time when neighbouring States are not exactly just watching what is going on. It will only be a question of time before investment slowly begins moving away.
My street was a non-go zone for 48 hours from the time cyclone Vardah struck.
The biggest avenue tree here had come down and it lay across the pathway, like an aged -elephant knocked down by a speeding train on the Nilambur track.
V. Mythili slowly got up from the edge of tarred North Mada Street, leaned on her maid, dragged herself a few steps and found a place on the pavement to sit down. And both smiled.
V. Pattabhi Ram writing in Industrial Economist says: Jayalalithaa – loved, hated, liked, adored, admired, feared, all in equal measure while she was alive – received the kind of farewell that not many in recent memory have got.
It was a massive turnout at the laying-at-state venue and at the funeral site. Men and women of all hue lined up there. Contrast it with the few thousands who turned out for
It is Vakula Varadarajan who alerts me to the bungalow that James Anderson built. We walk down Anderson Road in Nungambakkam, not sure where it was or what it looked like. Then, there it was, on the side opposite the British Deputy High Commissioner’s residence, its white front columns highlighted by the tangle of trees around.
As we trudge through the wild undergrowth, round the centuries-old woodapple,