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A Ganesh Nadar |
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It was infernally hot and my mom cribbed every time I switched on the air conditioner. The discussions in the tea shops centred around Rajiv Gandhi's killers. The governor had rejected their mercy petition. One smartly dressed young man said, "The governor cannot interfere with a Supreme Court judgment. These people are just using delaying tactics." Anyway, the condemned foursome have a pleasant jail superintendent guarding them. Or so says Subhasundaram, who was released with 18 others by the Supreme Court. As far as Subhasundaram goes, the Supreme Court did the right thing. He is totally harmless. But then, the people of Madras are fatalists. 'If it has to happen, it happens,' just about sums up their attitude. They blame bad events on their sins of their past lives, and not on an overzealous CBI. A few years ago, I had written a story on Sun TV. They were extremely willing to talk to me. They even asked if I would like to meet their managing director. Things have changed these days. Now, you cannot even meet his PA. If you manage to get her on the phone, she will dismiss you with a "Leave your questions with the receptionist." To which the equally rude receptionist will add, "And don't come here without an appointment." Well, two business achiever awards, a father who's a Union minister and a granduncle for a chief minister... it had to go to your head sometime! We have a saying in Tamil, Raja kuthikalay nallu, Raja veethu kannikutti kuthikkum which means that even if the king does not jump around in his house, his calf most certainly will. Which could explain the attitude of the managing director, and his receptionists, very well. The ancient monument, Rippon Building, has been whitewashed recently. The building has marble floors and you walk on a red carpet. There are no portraits of the mayor here... only portraits of the mayor's father. If you want to interview the mayor, you have to leave your questions with his PA. He will get back to you. Accessibility is certainly not a virtue in Madras. And how do they win elections? I don't know. Last time I stood, I lost. Pizza Corner is doing well in Madras. I had gone to their Adyar branch; it looks like an aeroplane that has just landed, its tail sticking out in the air. A Kannada star had asked me to come there, saying, "It's quiet in the morning, we can have a chat." There was a birthday party in progress when I landed there at noon. Not only the kids -- there were a few foreigners as well -- but their mothers too were well-dressed. Judging by the cars in the parking lot, it was a rich kid's party. The Kannada star and I retreated in haste to the Adyar Bakery ice cream parlour round the corner. This place was really quiet. A fact vindicated by the many young couples who held hands above the table. Banana Leaf is a Chettinad restaurant near the Besant Nagar beach. The menu and the table mats are shaped like banana leaves. The ceiling is covered with a woven mat. The food is good and the bill, like the roof, comes in a woven box. It caters to both the meat-eaters and the other kind. Madras is copying Bombay. Here too, there are flyovers coming up all over the city. Unlike Bombay, thankfully, they are not constructing 55 flyovers here. The constructions are causing innumerable jams all over the place and the cops have no clue as to how to sort out the mess. The people of Madras, as usual, blame fate and not the cops. The shops were crowded the week before Diwali. And T Nagar, it seems, is the in place to shop. It has even overtaken the more staid Mylapore. The crowds in T Nagar have to be seen to be believed. The place is even more crowded than Churchgate at 5.45 pm. Kumaran Silks, Chandran Textiles, Saravana Stores -- all these shops have one thing in common. You have to stand in a line to get in. On Ranganathan Street, which is the most crowded road, the police have set up a stall with mikes and loud speakers. A lady cop continuously announces, "Take your money safely to the shop. Take your goods safely back home. Hold on to your child. Mr Guruswamy, your wife, Kavita, has been waiting here for 45 minutes, please come immediately. There are two local trains services in Madras. One runs from Tambaram to the Beach, the other from the Beach to Mylapore. The second one is called Flying Train, because the entire line in on a bridge. Both the services are not crowded. In Madras, people prefer travelling by bus even though nobody stands in line, buses don't stop at the bus stop and the conductor refuses to come to you. He sits in one place, irrespective of the crowd, and the bus frequently stops at the oddest places so that the conductor can finish selling tickets. He would probably be lynched if he tried that in Bombay. There are 'all women' police stations, 'all women' petrol pumps and a few women autorickshaw drivers. Yet, women sit separately in the buses. Eve teasing here is higher than in Bombay. Mainly because girls are shyer here and don't wear high heels. I reached Egmore station to leave Madras an hour early. I like to browse through the book stalls. I was startled that a Harold Robbins novel, which recently cost Rs 150, now costs Rs 206. I bought a Tamil book about Veerappan instead. That too, at Rs 100, was costly. Later, I realised Harold Robbins was dead. I wonder who wrote Predator. And the vegetarian, chappati dinner on the train, which recently cost Rs 13, costs Rs 20. Voting for Vajpayee does not seem such a good decision now. A Ganesh Nadar loves the hustle and bustle of the city
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