Short N Snappy

All Just in Jest

It was yet another morning at the old magazine and The Man from Madras Musings lazily switched on his computer to see if there were any emails from ye faithfulle readership. And having seen, he continued seeing with a wild surmise rather in the manner of stout Cortez’s men on a peak at Darien. On a usual day there would at most be one or may be two e-mails, most of them complaining about the non-receipt of Musings but this day was evidently special for there were around two dozen e-mails, each beginning with the coldly-worded, Dear Sir, You may not be aware… etc. The old magazine had got the people’s goat by publishing that story on how JJ Road was named after the late lamented CM.

Not so roared the populace. There were a number of how-could-yous, especially from those who quoted from what we had published several years ago on how this was named after a Junker not from Germany but from a Jaghir close by. MMM could only say in MM’s defence that Homer had nodded. However, it is an ill-wind that blows absolutely no good and MMM is glad to -report that is was not one of those. It had as a positive -outcome a phone call from a dear friend of MMM, a Star married to a Flute so to speak, who had a fairly rollicking tale  to relate about yonder JJ Road.

This name, said the Star, had nothing to do with the Jaghired Junker. It was merely that the Corporation of Madras had divided the area into various axes named AA, BB etc., and this road happened to fall on the JJ axis. It was therefore marked thus and left that way. And so it remained. That the Junker of the Jaghir happened to own property close by was just a coincidence, said Star, who also added that everything jj is not necessarily JJ. And then she added that there had been an attempt to have the road renamed after an illustrious personage, the move being spearheaded by his widow. This apparently was strongly objected to by a society matron on the same road on the grounds that she had printed letterheads bearing the address as JJ Road and now these would all go waste. The idea was therefore dropped.

It later transpired that the society matron was not motivated by reasons of economy but Envy & Jealousy (EJ). That EJ had an ulterior motive soon came to light when one morning she declared that the road would henceforth be known after her (still living) husband. She even had the signboards repainted to reflect the latest name, making it EJ Road though it is unclear as to whether she obtained sanction from the Corporation. The matter however did not end there. On seeing a road named after the still living husband, many of his friends assumed he was dead and began coming around offering condolences, some of them bearing wreaths and dressed in black. The (still living) husband was as sick as mud over this and so the signboards went back to JJ from EJ. By then, it was the done thing to be JJ and so nobody attempt-ed any further name changes. The signboards were left in peace as were society matron’s letterheads. Sadly, society matr-on was not fated to be amongst us for long to gloat over her notepaper. Her husband however, is still living. Thus ended Star’s tale. MMM realises that there is a moral to the story, but is not able to exactly pinpoint as to what that is. In the meanwhile, the road continues to remain JJ Road, not named after the JJ you thought or the Junker who assumed it was after him but just a pair of initials celebrating an axis.

Being progressive

If progress is measured by your getting double of what you got earlier, our State and City have certainly advanced. The Man from Madras Musings had better make his meaning plainer. Till October or so last year, chances were that you drove or walked along with nary a thought in your mind other than demonetisation. You then came upon a road where you found that there were more policemen and women than normal. You then came across bamboo barricades behind which the colour-coded faithful were standing in attendance, ready to break into ecstatic dances accompanied by drumbeats borrowed from a neighbouring State as soon as an eminence passed by. Posters pasted on all the walls and some banners erected in the hope that Traffic Ramaswamy did not bring them down warned you that a walkabout or a drive about was imminent. You made sure you immediately ducked into an alley that you knew led to an alternate route to your destination. These blockades though painful were short-lived at best and you knew that once the entourage and cavalcade had gone by, the drums would fall silent, the dancers would cease to dance, the posters would come off, the banners be taken down and the policemen and women would go back to maintaining law and order. And you also knew that only one road was blocked off at any given point of time.

Things have changed. Nowa-days two roads get blocked off – one to a garden and the other to a thoroughfare once named after a former and eminently forgettable Corporation Commissioner that was renamed by a thespian-in-power after another thespian who specialised in playing the role of a scholarly old lady. And so you get two in the place of one. That by itself is progress. The second measure is that these thoroughfares remain perpetually blocked, no matter what time of day or night. And that is more progress. The barricades are forever up and the policemen/women are in attendance all the time. Progress yet again. As for the posters, they now sport two of everything – the original and a shadow that is rapidly becoming a doppel-ganger of the original. Still more progress! Of course the drums do not beat and the dancers are absent. Not so, however, are the bordered-dhoti faithful, who keep coming in, in busloads, singing, rather in the manner of those who came to witness a miracle, Hosanna. The search for a parent is apparently over and we are blessed with a new one.

There is plenty of activity in the area though whether all this will lead to achievement of any kind beyond the purely personal is open to conjecture. We as a nation are experts in mistaking activity for achievement and if MMM is not mistaken the current spate of activity is just that. MMM believes that Ichabod about sums it up.

Tailpiece

That the Tamil Nadu Police has a sense of humour became manifest last week to The Man from Madras Musings when he drove by an electronic kiosk that carried messages concerning traffic discipline. Most of these were of the standard kind and then came one that was a real killer (sorry, awful pun there). Don’t go at 100km/h and then come back using the 108 service, it said. Black humour may be, but still humour it is. And given the tough conditions they work in (including remaining in perpetual attendance at the two roads mentioned above), MMM doffs his hat at their coming up with the funnies.

– MMM

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