HARE AND THE TORTOISE - ANEW!

On a rather warm July evening, I met the Chairman of the Tamil Nadu chapter of the Indian Institute of Architects, and made my way to the Co-optex bus stop on Pantheon Road to take a bus to MAS – to get a train to PER back home.

As I was waiting for the bus, at around 1655, a 'share' auto as we call it in Chennai, stopped alongside and took passengers to Central for Rs.7/-. I took this option, since the bus stop was crowded and the bus was expected to be even more crowded.

As we passed Albert Theatre on Ice Factory Road and turned right into the Gandhi Irwin Road, I espied the 7651 MS KCG Exp, leaving MS with a rather clean looking Gowri loco. It was just about a hundred metres from the starter, and the train was already beginning to rock. I just forgot all about this and entered the Suburban terminal at MMC to take the 1720 AJJ EMU. The EMU was delayed by about 7 minutes and we left only at about 1727.

We then slowly wended our way out of MMC, parked outside a red signal that allows entry from MMC to the BBQ main line (slow line, of course), and started after a few minutes. The 2027 headed by a WAP1 made its way past us on the fast line, and disappeared on getting the green at the BBQ home signal.

We then stopped and started at BBQ, then slowed down at VPY (Veysarpadi) for some caution. To my surprise, the 2027 was still stuck up at VPY home signal. We just trundled past the 2027, stopped at Vysarpadi Jiva, and then proceeded towards PER. As soon as I got down at PER, I saw a distant train coming on the straight from VPY. I was rather surprised at this train – the KCG Exp would have long passed, and this loco did not seem to be the WAP1 of the Shatabdi.

I waited at the end of PF 4 at PER – and what do I see? The KCG Exp, Gowri and all, hurrying past – as though ashamed to have lost a race to an obese zombie called Sridhar Joshi. In about three or four minutes, as I walked down to my home, the Shatabdi also blasted its way!

It eventually turned out to be more than a “hare and a tortoise” story that day – the hare in Gowri surrendering meekly to the Tortoise. And to think that the hare took down the cheetah as well – the Shatabdi too lost the race to me!

Whatever happened mid way to Gowri – to hell with goods crossings, red signals, open LC gates – does NOT matter. The bottom line was that I blew the daylights off Gowri – and that is something that I will not forget in a hurry!

LUNCH AT THE BANK!

It was one of those days when ennui had set in – either for the ladies in the family to cook up one of those routine lunches, or for me, to carry lunch to work. I ended up looking for a place to at least fill my stomach – and I had no recourse to anything else but Hotel Sendhur, opposite the Local Head Office of the State Bank of India in Chennai.

At least that was what I thought until my colleague, Vinuodhini, asked me to join her with her schoolmates at where else – Sendhur! Just as we were about to leave, I was momentarily stuck up inside my boss’s cabin. Vino called me to confirm if I would join them at a new place somebody had found for them – the canteen of the State Bank of India’s Local Head Office! A new place for food is something that I would not really let go – and I readily accepted the offer.
Vino picked me up at the car park – and as we wended our way through the stairs, then the lift, then a left and then a right, I was very skeptical about what the place had on offer – if it could not be located easily. We finally made our way inside a hall that had a sign on the outside – “Officers’ Mess” it proclaimed.

It was a hall that could seat about 40 comfortably in well spaced out tables. The omnipotent plastic chairs were placed four to a table. As we washed and espied the place, I could not but help feeling a sense of astonishment at that place. Thalis were laid out quickly, the mandatory sambar and rasam in cups, the kootu, poriyal and the pickle in the compartments meant for them, rice in the biggest area of the thali – with a very suitable cover the the thali – the mandatory appalam. No papads please, you are in Tamil Nadu!

As I tucked into the radish sambar, the tomato rasam, and the chow chow – what some people call Bangalore Brinjal – a name that seems such a disrespect for this vegetable, my respect for this place only increased manifold. The portion of rice was just about right for me – and if I can feel sated, then about 80 percent of the visitors there will be! There was no restriction on the servings of any side dish – though you probably had to pay a rupee extra for the second appalam.

Our friend who had bought the tokens for lunch had just nodded when asked if he was a staffer – this cost us only Rs.15/- for the meal as against Rs.20/- if we had disclosed we were outsiders – and this seems a bit ironic, because boards inside proclaim that this place serves only Bank staff with ID cards!

All said and done, it was a meal that had me very satisfied and would take me through the rest of the work day. What else do you really want when you are famished and not so keen on blowing your purse out for some godforsaken meal at an even more godforsaken place!

DEATH AND THE MAIDEN

I have never been a compulsive film or play watcher all my life – be it the crassly commercial or the politically and socially correct “parallel” types. I have bypassed even blockbusters like ‘Sivaji’, and many plays for which I normally get tickets but hand them over to friends. It was with some reservation that I readily accepted to see a play – a mainstream one at that! This acceptance was for a fine friend, Samanth – a quizzer, a journalist, a fine actor and this was now his directorial debut.

Directorial debuts normally do not happen at the Metroplus theatre festival – it is the home of seasoned performers. This was one debut I will never forget – this was also my debut of watching a mainstream play. The uncertainty over the tickets was over the moment Rajaram called me to confirm that he had two tickets to the show.

It would be difficult to decide why Samanth deserves praise – the choice of the play, the choice of the artistes, the crisp direction or the eventual performance on the day that counts. What probably stands up to scratch would be the last part, but Samanth deserves praise for all the above.

The story Death and the Maiden is set in the dictatorial era that held sway over South America for a long time. It is about a woman – Paulina Salas coming face to face with her tormentor – Dr Roberto Miranda after a long time of 15 years, that too as a sudden but close friend of her husband Gerardo Escobar. The fires of revenge that are dormant within Paulina are stoked by the voice, smell and the language of Roberto, and she extracts a confession – both on paper and on tape. It is another matter that this would not be handed over to the sort of Truth and Reconciliation Commission of which her husband had just become a member. This was only for their safety – so that the likes of Roberto do not hound them again.

The performances of all the three characters were compelling. The sets were minimalistic, the lighting outstanding, the sound effects superb and the comedy was subtle at times and overtly suggestive at others. The real meaning of the comedy hit me hard in hindsight when I digested the play once again over a late dinner.

The liberal sprinkling of dual entendres in the dialogues, the unfettered usage of four letter words, of which probably “jack” was the mildest in nature, in a way strengthened the script – and was reflective of the tortuous times the Escobars had to go through – particularly Paulina – as Salas. What for me took the cake was the scene where after having tied Roberto to a chair, Paulina stuffing her panty in his mouth as an afterthought to muzzle any voices Roberto might raise! Very symptomatic of the raison d’être of the play!

SLEAZE MOVES INSIDE


The walls of Chennai, be they public or private never see any dearth of posters announcing everything from birth to death – and a dozen movies or more – in between. That has undergone a sea change these days. No, if you think Chennai’s walls are now cleaner and bereft of posters, you are wrong. It is just that just one kind of poster has now made an almost unannounced exit from the city’s walls.

These are the posters that announced the run of sleazy movies, mostly made with low budgets, and exhibited at sleazy cinemas to an even sleazier crowd. The fact that these were ‘enjoyed’ by top ranking professionals and the beedi smoking front benchers alike was a social leveller like no other. It was public knowledge that there were some movie halls that regularly screened such movies, and sometimes, pushed in a reel or three of such porn even though the movie per se did not have it.

Is liberalization and the easy availability of cheap electronic goods the reason then? Today, CD players, DVD players and TVs come dirt cheap, and are not beyond the budget of even the poorest of poor. Some applicances are even given free by vote catchers. This has led to the proliferation of hard core porn videos – all different kinds of them – Indian, phoren, animal lust, homosexuality and the like.

The videos are as easy to obtain as a cup of tea in you neighbourhood tea kadai. With such ease, even easier way of duplicating and circulating, almost everyone in the city can have a dekko for just about a hundred rupees – if you spread the copies far and wide, that is. This proliferation has led to almost the closure of movie halls that screen such movies. Many have gone through a correction – post renovation, they have become decent halls showing decent censor board cleared movies. Some have given way to malls residential apartments. Those that refused to be corrected are mostly in a decrepit and irreparable condition. It is only these halls that still show sleaze, and their clients are now very limited – alcoholic and incorrigible porn watchers.

Not that the others do not do this movies once in a way or regularly – why go out for something which you can get at home? This is the only reason that we are still seeing posters announcing everything from birth to death – it is only the sleaze that has moved from the walls to the living room.

SWETA AND HER PARUPPU SAADHAM


It is perfectly normal that we have two daughters as contrasting as chalk and cheese. The older Smita digs her teeth into anything that is edible, as long as it is vegetarian. She also relishes the not so frequent egg. She is not very particular about the levels of spice, salt etc., and all she needs when very hungry is a plain, crisp dosa with dollops of milagai podi sprinkled liberally with oil, on one side of the dosa. She however makes faces if we even accidentally mention the name of thayir saadham in passing.

The second one – Sweta is a perfect antithesis to Smita. She never ventures beyond the traditional paruppu saadham. Hot rice, a spoon of ghee, boiled and mashed toor dhall, some salt, a just that wee bit of rasam to add some spice – that is her breakfast. Then she has the same thing for lunch. The evening is a bit of a variation – the rice is not exactly hot. And for the dinner, literally the same menu. The add-ons that are compulsory are the goldfinger (which we call rings) deep fried in oil, and kept ready even before the rice and dhall is mixed. You should see the long faces she makes if the rings are missing from the table. The only concession she makes to the rings is if potato curry or ladiesfinger curry is available – and that too only after cajoling and sweet talking.

She also ventures into some uncharted territory when she on an impulsive remembrance of what her teacher advised – eats a bit of beans or cabbage, or has bread and jam, she has also ventured into the rare two idlis dunked into hotel sambar (never at home), some chapattis and jam, but has not done the variations enough to convince us that she is a complete eater.
This is one reason that we also do not dare to venture out beyond the South of India. For all the wonderful sights we would see across India, Sweta will be missing the sight of her staple rice-dhall-ghee-salt-ring combo. Something she says in Kannada as Anna, Saru, Uppu, Thuppu (a variant of Thuppa - Kannada for Ghee) and Thavvi (Boiled and mashed Dhall).

We are still waiting – waiting for Sweta to turn into not exactly a gourmand – but as someone who makes the occasional foray into something more than home turf.

A SYSTEM AT LAST

Finally, bowing to the persistent demands of my daughters, I have recently bought a computer - a desktop.

This now gives me the freedom to gurgle out my thoughts at leisure, without having to rush to a browsing centre or risk the ugly scenario of people peering over my shoulders at work.

Hopefully, I will now be regular in thinking my words out loudly on my blog, and so, keep the comments coming.