Registered with the Registrar of Newspapers for India under R.N.I 53640/91
Vol. XXVI No. 01, April 16-30, 2016
Down Silver Jubilee Lane
And so, Chief, here we are, on our 25th anniversary. Congratulations to you. As several in the city and elsewhere acknowledge, had it not been for you, we would not have become so conscious of our heritage – or our city. Those in administration, from what The Man from Madras Musings understands, also agree to this, only they are rather petulant about it. Their attitude to heritage has always been akin to what Henry II felt about Thomas Becket if you recall. And MMM must say they have been doing a great job of ridding themselves of all heritage buildings. Fortunately, the city is still with no.
But be that as it may, MMM would like to join in the chorus of congratulations. On this occasion, MMM would also like to remember, Chief, your own good lady, who always took a keen interest in matters pertaining to Madras Musings. She it was, you will recollect, who would always notice when we made a mistake in the issue number of our publication and both you and MMM would tie themselves into knots in response and perspire freely from every pore. And that brings MMM to the quarter million dollar question, Chief: Are you quite sure it is our silver jubilee? No chance of any errors in number? All right, Chief, you can relax, it was only a rhetorical question and one that MMM owed your good lady. We have over the years, after all, been very factual except when it comes to our dates. Remember the time Chief when we published the date of some event in the Dates for Your Diary section as February 30? MMM believes that a group of our faithful readers is still out there somewhere lost in a calendar, trying to locate the venue.
But then again, it feels as though it was only yesterday that all of us embarked on this journey, led by you. In all the thanks that you poured forth, Chief, in the last issue you forgot one significant contributor – namely the postman and his Department of Posts. They too in MMM’s view deserve our gratitude, though we have looked askance at their methods of delivery. But it cannot be denied that amidst flood, sunshine and heat, they have borne aloft our MM and ensured it reached its wide readership. Talking about them always makes MMM laugh – for it was they who ensured we made our free magazine into a paid one. And it was rather befitting, Chief, that they flung a rather moth eaten Act, one that pertained to the 1800s, an era that our publication is rather fond of, to tell us that we could not circulate freely! We did change thereafter and our faithful readership did not mind forking out some money.
And so here’s to you, Chief, and the beloved publication. May there be Golden, Diamond and Platinum Jubilees and after that centennial, sesquicentennial and quasquicentennial celebrations. MMM has reached the limit of the words he knows for landmark anniversaries, Chief, but he is sure that Madras Musings will last for many years after these as well. And so, ladies and gentlemen, a toast, to our dear Chief and our Madras Musings! As these are days when prohibition is being thought of, MMM raises his glass of buttermilk in a toast. Or should he opt for palm toddy? On that happy note, let us proceed to other matters.
Electoral round-up
Ever since the electoral code of conduct kicked in, every one of our political parties is on its best behaviour. There are no posters or graffiti disfiguring walls and no cut-outs and hoardings line the routes the leaders take to office. Of course, The Man from Madras Musings is fairly certain that these people must be sorely missing these eulogies and panegyrics, but then that is the price to pay to have a job that requires a renewal of contract every five years. There is otherwise very little else to complain about these modes of ‘gainful’ employment.
The police are in full swing checking all cars in the city. MMM too was stopped in a dark thoroughfare and asked to open the boot of his vehicle. MMM’s friend, who is of a cheery disposition, asked the force if they would care to take a selfie with MMM and himself to which the lady officer in charge smiled graciously and said that would be done anyway if cash was found in the car. MMM duly opened the boot to find that this was the day when his good lady (also known as She Who Must Be Obeyed) had placed what appeared to be a hundred different bags in the boot, including her handbag. Now MMM’s wallet is never known for containing anything more than small change but with his good lady it was an entirely different matter altogether and so it was with a silent prayer that MMM watched the officers search. But the number of bags proved too much of a deterrent and having taken one look at MMM and friend they opted to shut the boot and wave the car on.
There are many hopefuls doing the rounds for a party ticket. So too did a neighbour of MMM’s who happens to be the local Lord Bountiful, practising his charities with an eye on popularity. For several afternoons he set up a water and buttermilk dispensing pavilion that also featured a high decibel music system that belted out songs in praise of the One Great Leader. The thirsty hordes flocked to the pavilion and drank to their fullest. But then when the party list of candidates was published MMM noticed that his neighbour was not on it. The pavilion was taken down and the services dispensed with. MMM presumes that the buttermilk of human kindness had turned sour.
Sour reminds MMM of fermentation and that in turn brings to his mind the stuff that cheers. It appears that all parties in the fray have decided that imposing Prohibition is going to be their chief electoral promise. It looks like the State is all set to go dry no matter who comes to power and by that MMM does not mean the water crisis. MMM wonders what will happen to the vast populace that has come to look upon its daily tipple as a matter of right. Perhaps they will all go on the wagon and once on it will direct it towards the erstwhile French colony that is our neighbour as they did in the past when Prohibition was imposed. MMM is sure there will be lot more material for this column in the months to come.
But if the fluid that oils electoral machinery goes dry, what will aid the digestion of the other electoral offering – biriyani?
Animal-loving poet
The Man from Madras Musings is aware that very few facts are available about our State’s sage who gave us three books in ancient time – on duties, piety and love. Even the former Governor of an eastern State who has penned a wonderful book of translations of the poet’s work admits that his personal life, and by that MMM means the poet’s and not the Governor’s, is a closed book. MMM is happy to report that he (poet not Governor) loved animals, as evinced by the accompanying photograph. On that happy note, a Happy Tamil New Year’s Day to all. Or is that on January 14th? That depends on who is elected on May 16th.
-MMM