A Foot in the door

2011-05-04T22:03:00.001+05:30

SHE

She’s a special woman … She’s my wife – so ran a commercial that I remember having liked a couple of decades ago.

For nineteen years to the day, she has endured me and my eccentricities. For nineteen years, she has been by my side, through thick and thin. For nineteen years, she has never asked me for anything and always sought to know what I wanted. For nineteen years, she has taken care of me like nobody ever can, knowing full well that I could have done so much better. For nineteen years, she has been everything for me, and I could have been more for her. For nineteen years, she has been a part of my family, making it our family; I am not sure I can say the same thing about myself. For nineteen years, she has borne the pain of everything that I inflicted on her and given me happiness in return – the two wonderful daughters are testimony to that. For all these years, she has brought up the two daughters into good young girls, and that has probably been in spite of me, and not because of. For nineteen years, she has never made a long face at anything; I have probably never been as good. For nineteen years, even when I have not said ‘please’ … for anything, she has pleased me. For nineteen years, and as we enter our twentieth year of marriage, she has been a wonderful friend, spouse, mother and all else to me. What have I been to her?

Well, why now? And, why not post this at the eighteeth, seventeenth, or earlier? I probably would not have done this even now – it is just that something happened that made me realize how the hell I would have missed her not so long ago. In fact, just a few days ago. That was the day when it was a second coming for me, not for her.

Walking along the beach at Besant Nagar, she missed noticing a huge wave, slipped and was drawn into the sea. Thankfully, my sister-in-law and my daughter were nearby. Panicking, she was pulled out of the sea, shell-shocked. She was drenched in the sand the retreating waters had deposited on her. She was pale with shock, words failing her. She was brave and courageous not to make the others despondent. I was not there – I was walking towards them to join them at the beach.

As my daughter narrated the happening, I was forced to put up a brave face – not for anything else, but to bring her back to as normal as I could. But, it took a couple of days for normalcy to return. I still cannot think about what would have …

Now you know why this was not written on the eighteenth, seventeenth … or earlier. I probably had taken things for granted. I was wrong. I should have been posting this every year.

As Veena and I enter the twentieth year of our marriage on 5 May 2011 (twenty-fourth of our courtship), it is a case of better late than never.

2011-04-02T20:02:00.000+05:30

CRITIQUE OF THE CRICKET WORLD CUP 2011 – PART 1 – UDRS

It is just about half-way in the finals of the ICC Cricket World Cup 2011 (WC) in Mumbai; with Sri Lanka going good, I thought it was time to put my thoughts about this rather long event. I am not going to talk, in this series, a word about individual and team performances; neither am I going to talk what the newspapers have all talked. I am going to critique the WC – there have been far too many things I have not liked in this WC. So many things that the mainstream media have been glossing over and the ICC has been glossing over (as if anyone expected ICC to be proactive – they are not even properly reactive!).

First on my list is the Umpires’ Decision Review System (UDRS), and I will stick to this term – ICC, in deference to the umpires’ objection, have dropped the ‘U’ from the abbreviation to make it DRS. It does not take a dumbass to understand that the review is on the umpires’ decisions – not a review of why a batsman got hit on the pad or why he edged and not a review of why the bowler got the edge of the bat before it hit the pad or why the bowler missed the edge of the bat on the way to the ‘keeper. So even before UDRS has settled down, here we are, making the first ‘U’ turn, and pardon the pun!

What is a review for? It is just the one party is not happy with a decision and has chosen to appeal against the decision to a so-called higher authority. So, once a decision goes up, it has to be finalized there; returning the call to the umpire who made the supposedly wrong decision, at least in the eyes of the aggrieved party, simply does not meet the ends of natural justice. If only all jurisprudence was conducted in this manner, the entire world would be anarchy by now – not that is too far away anyway! Far too many decisions have been bounced back to the men who made the avowedly wrong decision in the first place; this means that far too many decisions have not been decisively taken by the higher appellate authority. Only the ICC is to blame for this mess. How? Read on.

The ridiculous 2.5m rule is one of the culprits, and probably the biggest one. Though, in the light of the Ian Bell decision, ICC decided to take the proverbial ‘one step forward’, actually it was two steps backward. Let me tell the ICC that to thrust an unproven system in an important event as the WC simply does not wash. ICC should have stuck to the decision if they felt they were right. People may praise the ICC is proactively responding to an evolving system, but no sports governing body worth its salt will trial a system at its flagship event. As simple as that.

Next is the absence of the Hot Spot – a superb defence-related technology that shows, using infra-red cameras, the spots where the ball has made contact as it passes the stumps. The excuse is that there are very few cameras in the world and will not be enough for all the matches to be covered. If you don’t have the equipment, don’t trial anything that is equipment-dependent. You can’t start a multiplex without the projecting equipment. The excuse is that these cameras are very costly. If you can’t meet the cost, don’t even think of it; it is a case of low-living, high-thinking. Any small kid knows that you cannot get a Rs.30 ice cream if you take Rs.10 to the vendor! There is also a minor issue of ICC forcing the rights-holding TV companies to invest in these cameras. If ICC wants these images, it is they who should invest, not force it on the TV companies. It is a bit like asking someone to buy lingerie for your wife! But ICC says the UDRS is fine even without hot spot, surely an ostrich-like attitude. It is actually very easy to include hot spot – let ICC buy enough of them. After all, ICC is flush with money; if ICC is broke, ask BCCI to buy some and lease them wherever required – BCCI will only be happy at seizing another money-making opportunity.

The ball-tracking technology is another major issue – there are at least two technologies available, Virtual Eye and Hawk Eye. We all saw that the ball tracking shows different points of impact when these technologies are used. I remember seeing a photograph from the Ashes where one technology showed the ball hitting pad at least three inches higher – a critical input going wrong when one of those technologies is used. You surely would not want to be hanged on such evidence, but ICC are adamant that no matter what technology is used – they have no say in the matter – UDRS must go through. Add to this mix the 2.5m rule, and the only spelling you get is ‘confusion’ – certainly not the right frame of mind for anyone to be out there reviewing.

The only answer that ICC has is that UDRS is an evolving system. Any sane organization, as I have already stated, does not use ‘evolving’ technology in such an important event. That much for ICC’s sanity. The telecasts have been showing various statistics about the success of reviews made through the UDRS by various teams. This is just hogwash and driven by ICC publicity – these are just numbers that show how successfully teams have exploited a technical inconsistency to their advantage.

Talking of technical inconsistency, ICC seem to promote exactly that and nothing more. How else do you explain the use of any ball-tracking technology, optional use of hot spot cameras, etc. The decision is also left to consensus in bilateral series. Shambolic. Will UEFA allow use of goal-line technology in the Champions League and not use it in the Europa League?

That probably fully explains why BCCI is reluctant to sign in to UDRS. I fully support India’s decision not to go with the UDRS. The UDRS is just a half-baked system to show that ICC is doing something to get more fairness into the game, but sorry folks, ICC is dialing the wrong number on this. The sooner we get this out or get COMPLETE uniformity, UDRS will not get my vote – not that it matters.

2011-02-13T11:50:00.000+05:30

A THRILLING JOURNEY

A film can hold the attention of the viewers even without songs, romance, vulgarity, unnecessary fight scenes, an item number and some violence. Trash the time-tested formula that includes all of the above, and you are in trouble as a producer. Right? Wrong.

Ask the Prakash Raj–Radhamohan combine. They have done wonderfully well so far with movies I loved – offbeat themes like Mozhi and Abhiyum Naanum (the two that I watched, though there are more!) – and their latest offering comes as a bit of a surprise. Surprise that it contains none of the elements that every film has to have; surprise that central to the theme is, you guessed it, the Central Government; surprise that the key elements of this successful essay are satire and comedy, with a bit of drama thrown in.

The parodying of a hero bashing up a hundred baddies in a fight scene; the government bending over backwards to release terrorists, first for a minister’s daughter and then for precious lives of aam aadmi (surprising that governments even think of aam aadmi!!); the vote-bank politics and the resultant calculations of the electoral arithmetic should the hijack drama go wrong are all spot on.

The hijack drama is the driving wheel of this movie – the plotting of a commando operation; the plotting to just foil the commando operation. There are wheels within wheels, though. The comedy, read, satirical track is subtle at times and forceful at others, though never once departing from what the movie sets out to achieve. The Shining Star hero, Dr Narayana Shastry (astrologist and all in one), an eloping wife, a once-eloped wife and her now-confessing husband, a doctor and a reluctant co-passenger, a mandatory priest and an even mandatory Pakistani-baby-operated-for-heart-condition-in-India character drive the driving wheel. The hijackers, of course come as they should – sometimes cruel, sometimes ruthless, sometimes sympathetic and, in the end, heartless as to shove a bomb stealthily in the heart patient child’s satchel.

If I were to talk of Prakash Raj and Nagarjuna and the score of others vis-à-vis their acting in this movie, I can only say two words – spot on. All roles are etched to almost perfection – they linger in your psyche long after it is all over. Just as the raison d’être of surrenders to hijackers. Thoughtful is the twist in the tale where the to-be-released terrorist is killed in an avalanche. Thoughtful is the script when a small-time movie actor is asked to essay the role of the dead terrorist – redoing the role again with great hilarity and a supposed commitment to the nation.

The background score is right without being extravagant, the cinematography is good without being picture-postcard-perfect – this is not a feel-good romantic running-around-the-trees movie, after all. The dialogues pack a hearty laugh; they also trigger a thought-process of what has been so far and what could have been if the previous real-life hijacks were handled with the interest of the nation in mind. All characters are essayed without the minimum of fuss – that translates into a maximum of effect, with no overdose of any single aspect.

All in all, a wholesome entertainer that the Prakash Raj–Radhamohan combine has pulled off. And, if newspapers have it to be believed, through the pre-release courtroom drama, this movie has probably given the combine another food-for-thought script for their next movie – how wives can be useful even after divorce!

2010-10-11T09:47:00.000+05:30

Endhiran - WYSIWYG

WYSIWYG in most of the Rajni’s films. The same goes for Shankar’s films too. Both of them are adept in dishing out ‘formula’ films. If a dash of comedy and style was the usual seasoning in the former’s flavour, ‘hero versus corruption in the society’ is the latter’s. When these two master chefs decided to conjure up something different three years ago and named it after the ultimate thespian of tamil cinema, it turned out to be the most definitive talking point between any two individuals at that time. ‘Simultaneous worldwide release’ was a phrase never known to any Tamil film distributor, until ‘Sivaji- The Boss’ happened. From then on, every release of ‘anybody who claims that he is a somebody’ in Tamil cinema was touted as a Mega Release. If ‘Sivaji …’ has ignited that trend, ‘Endhiran’, yet another Rajni–Shankar combo has certainly exploded all over the world, in terms of marketing and release.

But what about the signature flavour of both? It may have been 30 months since author Sujatha had passed away, but his trademark spices still waft throughout the film. Shankar’s fondness for ‘what-if’ films continues in Endhiran too. If ‘Indhian’ showed glimpses of his taste to this particular genre, ‘Mudhalvan’ turned out to be his best until ‘Endhiran’ happened. Shankar continues the same here too, with ‘what if a robot (Rajni) develops human emotions?’

Scientist Vaseegaran (Rajni) develops an ‘All-in-all-azhagu-raja’ robot that does everything, except emoting. (Shankar, I must say, has struck gold here, by choosing an actor who’s not well known for expression of any emotion on the screen! It is difficult to imagine a dumbed down version of Kamal or SRK! ). As in any sci-fi film, there’s always a mad scientist and that role is reprised by Danny Dengzongpa. When cornered by the latter, Vaseegaran ‘imparts’ human emotions to his new creation. From then on, ‘the show begins’. Oh, I forgot! There’s also a love interest for Vaseegaran, in the form of Aishwarya Rai.

While Shankar cuts to the chase right from scene one, he loses his breath midway and towards the end falls into the Helen/Alam formula – ‘glam-doll heroine dancing and luring the villain in his den’. Thankfully, he quickly recovers and resorts to what he knows best, CGA. And the film makes or breaks with this acronym. Courtesy a meiotic reproduction, the screen is engulfed with monster robots out to destroy everything, ensuring mayhem in town, Shankar ensures that Sun Productions spends at least one-third of the budget for the last 15 minutes. And as it happens in most of Shankar’s film, the protagonist, in spite of being the ‘raison d’être’ for tearing the city to shreds, is grandly released by a jury.

Rajni, as Vaseegaran, looks old and jaded. One of the biggest let downs in ‘Endhiran’ is the lack of typical Rajni-isms – without any punch dialogues or a grand Rajni-entry song, something seems amiss. Perhaps, it is deliberate on Shankar’s to rip apart the old formula and to create a new Rajni aura. It is only the robot Rajni that saves the grace for Rajni fans. Especially for diehard Rajni fans. He ignites a spark into an otherwise dumb robot. His gaits and his menacing looks add a different panache to the character. Apart from wearing some skimpy dresses and prancing around UNESCO heritage sites, the story ensures that Ms Rai has nothing much to do. Santhanam and Karunas seem a complete misfit and this could perhaps be the first Rajni or Shankar’s film that is devoid of comedy. With Rajni – the scientist and the robot – taking up almost three-fourths of the dialogue, there isn’t much for others to speak and most of the other known names just breeze past. Rahman’s music is more like a Dravid innings – taking time to build up, but when it does, it is savoured for long.

A catchy line for a popular retail store in Chennai belts out, ‘Brammandamai … Brammandamai …’. I am no great fan of the quality of the dish served there. The same goes for ‘Endhiran’ too. However, it is worth a dekko if not for anything but to announce proudly amongst your friends that you too have swum with the current.

PS: This review is by Rajaram, who has a blog. Either he is too lazy or too busy to keep it updated!

My comments: For a change, I am happy not to be swimming with the current!

2010-10-10T11:24:00.000+05:30

BRINDAVAN – THE REAL SUPERFAST

(Sequel to the Cardex Cardiacs)

After all the trouble taken to book the tickets and all the trouble taken to wait in anticipation for more than two long months to embark on the first ever trip on the Brindavan, the day did not dawn – we were up even as it was dark. After finishing the morning chores, filling up water containers (not sure if they were glass bottles or stainless steel koojas, as they call them in Tamil), checking out on the luggage and the tickets, we were out at a rather bright time in Madras – around 0645 hrs. Boarding a taxi, we reached Madras Central (MAS) in about 15 minutes from Perambur. We headed to PF 1, where the most prestigious trains were parked for departure those days, and quickly settled into our seats in what I think was coach ‘C’. Coach identifiers those days were only alphabets; I think one or two of the later letters like S and T were for the upper class coaches, A through R was for the Second Class coaches of those days.

The seats were wooden, three by three separated by an aisle. The capacity was even then 108 seats to the coach, with a door after the first 48. The wooden seats were punctured with holes forming a pattern of a large SR on the backrests – were these patterns made on the seats also, I cannot recollect. Large coir carpets welcomed us into each coach – yes, they were placed at every vestibule, to overcome the uneven nature of the footplate of one coach overlapping the other!

We had two window seats facing each other and one middle seat – dad was not travelling with us. He would come down towards the last week of May, which was to be our last week of travel, make a quick dash to Bijapur (BJP) to his sasuraal, accompany us back to Hubli (UBL) and then to MAS. The scheduled departure was 0800; the Coromandel was scheduled to depart 0810 from PF 2, as I hazily remember – it could also have been the other way.

As we bade good-bye to our dad and the numerous other senders-off (most of them for seeing the unique green and yellow liveried train, rather than sending off their relatives), the engine started pulling out the train. I must confess I do not remember whether it was a steam or a diesel; chances were we could have been hauled by a steam loco. We quickly picked up speed as we passed Basin Bridge (BBQ) and braked for moving into the main line at the Veysarpadi (VPY) cabin. As we merged with the mainline, the train picked up speed and passed the Perambur (PER) station in about a couple of minutes.

As we passed PER, a huge rustling noise caught our attention. It was the sound of the Pantry Car shutters opening. As soon as the door opened, calls of ‘kaapi, kaapi’, ‘chaai, chaaya’ and ‘idly vada’ rent the air. People started loosening their purse strings and had their first gulp of tea / coffee. Served in disposable plastic (rather thick for a disposable) cup, the coffee was very good – at least I remember it to be very good. It was a fight between my sister and me to throw out the third cup through the window – we had thrown out our own cups; mother’s cup was to be done. We arrived at a compromise – my sister would get the first turn to throw out mom’s cup; I would get my turn when we had our second cup later in the day.

I remember crossing Arakkonam (AJJ) in about an hour and, rushing past at about 30 kmph, there were many surprised souls in the train, some even wondering aloud about the non-stop run at AJJ. We blasted past stations one by one – the tracks were so well maintained that I do not recollect today any caution orders that slowed us down. We reached Katpadi (KPD) at what I remember as around 0950, and started in about a couple of minutes. We picked up speed as we joined the main line and again started blasting past stations like Ambur and Vaniyambadi at mps. It was around 1100 when we screeched to a halt at Jolarpettai (JTJ). The brief two minute halt was stretched to five minutes – not many bothered, though. This was a chance to take a small walk to stretch the idle limbs out on the platform. Adjacent to my coach, steel trays, covered with newspapers were being loaded – these contained fresh, crispy, golden brown medu vadas, dal vadas, packets of tamarind rice, sambar rice, lemon rice and curd rice (I am not using the word ‘bath’ or ‘bhath’ for the rice, chastened by the need for a clarification for the uninitiated on whether people actually take a bath in tamarind and the like J).

We must have left around 1106 or 1107, and quickly took the huge right curve, veering away from the line towards Salem. We crossed the JTJ link cabin in good speed, and blasted past Somanayakanpatti. We then braked hard to slow down to about 30 (or could even have been 45) as we crossed the home signal at Patchur. Here, I cannot but help sympathise at the status of Brindavan these days – even a thought of a stoppage at Patchur would be considered blasphemy – the controller, had it been a dictatorial regime, would be summarily hanged without explanation! Now, even a hilarious talk of a halt at Patchur for the Brindavan does not elicit as much as a snigger – it sparks off a thread of about twenty mails on the mailing list (yours truly included).

We exited the ghats and blasted past Kuppam, Bangarpet and many more ‘wayside’ stations and slowed down a bit only when we reached Baiyappanahalli; we reached the third stop of the day, Bangalore Cantonment (BNC) at 1240. A quick two minutes later, we began snaking our way on the curves past the trackside bungalows – don’t bother to see them these days, they are all multi-storeyed apartments – and pulled into a curvy Platform 1 at Bangalore City at about 1250. On time? No way, we were before time by at least 10 minutes; if our departure, which I speculated to have been at 0800 was right. If our departure had been 0810, then we were in at least 20 minutes before time. To think that we start threads if the Shatabdi these days arrives five minutes before time!

We alighted to be surprised at the fact that not one soul on PF1 made a beeline for the coaches – each one heeded the announcement that the coaches were being cleaned and passengers had to wait for clearance to enter. Amazing! We then made out way past the crowd, deposited our entire locked luggage in the cloak room and exited the station building. We took a right turn, walked past Hotel Pavana (?) and entered the Krishna Vilas for a sumptuous meal, before we would go sightseeing.

We would continue our journey by the SBC-Miraj (MRJ) Mail/Passenger – that has to wait for some more time. Meanwhile, a request for confirmation of the timings in the report above – those having TTs of early 1970s, please correct me. Thanks for the reading.

2010-10-09T15:40:00.003+05:30

Cardex Cardiacs!

I am not sure about the year – could have been anytime between 1972 and 1974. We were planning for the summer vacation – my parents, my younger sister and I. We were all pretty desperate to travel on what was the real express then – and probably the fastest on SR – the Brindavan Express. We had heard stories from friends about how fast the train was, about how they had a ‘kitchen’ inside the train, about how they prepared food in that ‘kitchen’ and served to the passengers, about how the cups could be thrown away after drinking the coffee/tea – all with an awe that is unique to kids of our age. I would have been anything between six and eight years old; my sister two years younger – and quite an impressionable age to be awestruck by these things.

We had been pestering our dad to book us by the Brindavan – we were always headed to Bangalore (SBC) and thence to Hubli (UBL), thence to Bijapur (BJP) for the first leg. The return was also the same route. He had been stonewalling – who would ‘pay’ for the tickets, he asked. As an employee of ICF, he was eligible for free passes and PTOs, the latter providing a concession of one-third of the fare (one-sixth for dependent children eligible for half tickets). All the stories heard about the Brindavan came from class and school friends whose parents were not shackled by the free travel – the money saved on the fare had to be saved by us – those were the days!

During one of the evenings, my dad came and broke the news – Brindavan was ‘dereserved’ for free passes and PTOs. That meant we could now reserve on the Brindavan and travel for free. So we set about fixing dates and working out connections onward to UBL. After my parents figured out the dates, we then set about figuring out a date to go out and book tickets at the Advance Reservation Counters of the Madras Central booking office – it is only now that we have the PRS and the e- and i-tickets!
One rather warm Saturday morning in early February, at about 0330 hrs, my father woke me up and asked me to get ready for the ticket booking mela. He had returned home at 0230 completing his Friday night shift and he was ready, just for our sake. We walked down the three-fourths of a kilometer to Perambur and took some mail that was in at that time and reached the counter at about 0415.

At that rather unearthly hour, there were already a few bricks – yes bricks – representing people who would join later in the queue. We would have been about the twentieth or so in the odd-date counter for Brindavan.

About the counters

Each train had a separate counter for II class, either sitting or sleeping, two or three tier. Some popular trains like the Brindavan, the NIlgiri, the Bangalore Mail, etc. had two counters each – one for odd dates of travel and another for even dates. For the upper class, read FC and Air-conditioned two tier, about six or seven trains were bunched to a counter. If you had to travel second class and the date you wanted to leave was full, you either had the choice to make for travelling two days early or two days late; otherwise, you had to start all over standing at the tail end of the queue for the odd/even date! Unless, of course, you planned for the 31st of a month

About the process

The cardex method was followed in booking tickets. A rudimentary explanation of the cardex method is due here. You could visualize a large sheet or polished cardboard, bleached and printed, about the size twice that of a double foolscap paper, or the A2, as we know it today. On this was printed rows and columns, each sheet holding one day of travel. Each column could hold data for three/four coaches depending upon the capacity. The train number, class and date were filled in before the first berth/seat was booked. This was done using a variant of today’s marker pen – double bold and probably in 32-point sized font, handwritten. A thicker cardboard was used to secure fifteen/sixteen/thirty such sheets representing one month of booking. The name of the passenger, age, sex, ticket number (card or BPT) was written against each berth/seat. The quotas were well marked; so were lower, middle and upper berths. I did not notice any cardex having window seats indicated. There was normally no way one could be booked against another quota – that cell was darkened before the process started for that day!

What happened to us

In an inspired move, or well-thought one, my dad asked me to stand in the odd-date queue and he stood in the even-date queue. I was surprised, at about 0600 hours, to see a large number of people enter the hall and take their places – it seemed everybody were headed to our counter, and everybody were ahead of us. My fears were allayed when I saw I was around twentieth from the window; my dad was tenth. We had a flexible option – so we could book on a date whoever reached the counter first.

The counter opened at 0700, and people began to book tickets. Some had travel dates that were not on the cardex of the clerk, he had to go to the large shelf and fetch the correct cardex for the month and thumb the edges for the date. For some, the cardex had not been opened at all – he had to fetch a balank cardex, fill out all the train details in marker, then bind it with a tag to a cardboard. As the tickets were removed from the slot, he had to write the name of the passenger and the age at the back of ticket, besides coach ‘A’ or whatever. Then he had to repeat the same process on the cardex and then collect cash and hand over the tickets. All this took a long time – almost four to five minutes per transaction.

My dad’s turn came at about 0830, sadly there were no tickets for the 16th of April. Our next choice was 18th, so that we could finish our booking. There was no cardex opened for this date as yet! The clerk went out and took his sweet time to bring the cardex – but he had the master details filled up as he brought it! Quicky filling out the details on the cardex and on the free pass, he proceeded to bring out a book. He inserted the carbon papers at the right sheets and filled out our request for onward reservation by the Bangalore-Miraj Mail/Pass leaving Bangalore at 1730 thereabouts. This would be forwarded to SBC via telegraph. All such requests would be processed in batches at SBC by a separate person; a reply would be sent to MAS confirming reservation, or informing a WL number or no room was available. Invariably, the reply was not forthcoming – we had to check out in SBC upon arrival and get the details

Luckily, we got two window seats and two middle seats facing each other. As we found out later, our onward reservations were also confirmed; so were the return reservations. The journey was a memorable one – our first on the Brindavan, but that report will have to wait for some time.

My father recalls these things during a small talk this last week as he is recuperating from an small surgery to remove a cataract from his left eye – he has been barred from reading the newspaper and watching the TV – I thought it would be of interest to reminisce about this.

This is also available here.

2010-08-19T22:57:00.000+05:30

OLD ARCHITECTS OF MADRAS

Silence is golden ...

2010-08-18T23:41:00.000+05:30

GRAFFITI – CHOLA STYLE

A minute or two into his presentation, Pradeep Chakravarthy broke into a song. It was actually a wonderful rendition of a verse by Sundaramurthy Nayanar on the life and times of the Chola period – life and times of a city that was not yet Madras, but bears such a resemblance to the life and times of these days. If you are wondering if it was a musical drama on the life and times of Madras during the Chola era, you are wrong.

It was a perfect presentation, as perfect as you get them. The villages, spreading from Tiruvottriyur to Mylapore – of the modern day, of course – were the samples of a republican form of government gained root. Yes, the vastness of the kingdom meant that the king was only a titular head, of course more powerful than the rubber stamps we have today. Everyone down the line handled their responsibilities admirably and with such integrity. The fear of punishment even drove a few to suicide.

It is a rather surprising revelation from Pradeep that the percentage of religious and mythological detail in the inscription on the walls of the villages – during the Chola era – was zero! The inscriptions, mainly in Tamil and Sanskrit with a bit of Telugu or Kannada thrown in detail more of the social life and governance of those days. Such a treasure is often lost to renovation and modernization – irrevocably most of the times. Most of these inscriptions talk of gifts made to the kingdom, landmark judgments, landholdings, etc.

These inscriptions were found in places as far as Manali, Tiruvottriyur, Mylapore, Tiruvallikeni, and many more. Most importantly, all these spoke of things that happened far and wide. For example, you could find an inscription in Manali about some aspect of life in faraway Thiruvidanthai, on ECR of today!

The territorial divisions according to the inscriptions were country, state (known as mandalam), district (kutram, Kottam, or valanadu), taluk (nadu), city (tani ur), town (agaram, mangalam) and village (ur) – I simply hope that I have got them right. Administration was through a mix of central authority and regional autonomy. Overall administration rested with the Alunganathars (Executive Committees); the Eri Variyam took care of lakes and water bodies; the Pon Variyam checked the quality of the gold donated/paid to the Mahasabha.

Temple properties were probably managed by the committees in Manali and Velacheri, the collection of dues was the responsibility of Tirusulam, Velacheri and Koyambedu and the policing was done by the kavalkarars of Tiruvottriyur. Taxes were collected from land owners, who were both private and communal. Land could be sold to anyone. The rough calculation was that you could get a kilo of rice for what would be 0.0001 paise!

The major professionals of those times were weavers, gold- and blacksmiths, oil mongers, watchmen, upperalathan (salt pan worker), potter, merchants (They even had guilds, and had understanding with other guilds too. They also offered protection to immigrants called nanadesis!), devadasis and savarnnas (doctors!). The first strike recorded during those times was the one called and observed by the devadasis! In fact, intervention of many levels did not assuage the devadasis; they repeatedly went on strike. Only the intervention of the king finally led to some semblance of agreement.

While inscriptions still have so many stories to tell, Pradeep is rightly saddened and aghast at the fact that whatever little we have are being lost to modernity. Even in those days, there were inscriptions that were older inscriptions – they just mentioned that they were copies of some earlier inscription that should not be lost to renovation. That foresight and awareness is sadly lacking today, and any conservation always begins with a round of sand-blasting – a sure way to lose them permanently.

And when Pradeep ended with an appeal to preserve the inscriptions, the rather respectable crowd was awaiting with questions. His presentation was lucid, very understandable and not heavy at all on the crowd considering the rather historical nature of the subject. He took questions with aplomb, and unlike most erudite history researchers, was quick to accept that he did not know some facts.

The end of another wonderful evening, when Pradeep began with a bang and ended with, er, another bang, left me wondering with another small matter. Pradeep is one helluva speaker, but I would love to have him sing too – given his multifaceted nature, I am sure he can wear two hats at the same time and look handsome too!

I am not sure this is as accurate as the subject deserves – these are only notes of what I heard and what found a place in my scrapbook. Apologies in advance if any errors have crept in – these are purely by oversight and unintentional.

2010-08-18T14:58:00.000+05:30

NALLA PRESENTATION-NA, YES, IDHU THAAN

It is often said – and I have had quite a few experiences myself – that a good writer does not always make a good speaker, though there are a hazaar exceptions. This was at the back of my mind as I walked in to the third lecture of the Madras Musings Lecture Series. This was a talk on Tanglish in Tamil Movies by the noted film critic and that wonderful writer, Baradwaj Rangan.

I have known Baradwaj just a bit from my freelancing days when Samanth used to write for Brahmma Features; we would have said a fleeting ‘Hi’ just that once or twice. But I have always loved his columns and reviews – that was one reason I did not want the theory of good writers to be proved.
Baradwaj, it is surprising, as I heard out Sriram introduce him, has done quite a bit that I had not suspected. An engineering degree, a Masters in the US, an advertising career, IT career, and finally into journalism.

It all, however, began on the wrong foot – the audio refused to make a noise about thirty seconds into the presentation. It took a rather long ten minutes and a possible ingenious solution to get the audio fixed. It was really no looking back from there.

Baradwaj, like most speakers – more like most gifted writers – had his presentation segmented very properly. He played a few clips, talked a bit, then played a few clips, talked a bit – the talking was about the reason why Tanglish was there in the dialogue or the song that was played. He started off about his conversation with Thamarai, that lyricist who refuses, and rightly so, to use non-Tamil words in her film songs. Apparently, Thamarai, just before hanging up on the phone, asked Baradwaj “Idhu than ungal enna?” That set the perfect tone of what justification existed for use of non-Tamil words in films.

He had the reasons well researched; the clips to go with these were masterfully selected. As was his manner of presentation. One reason for Tanglish, he said, was youth. Youth tend to go hip-hop with their lingo too, interspersing the local language with the foreign one, in this case interspersing Tamil with English. Sometimes, youth also meant club dances, where Tamil was a strict no-no in films; sometimes it was considered anti-Tamil kalaacharam to talk in Tamil if you were an educated young thing.

The next reason was the roles played – roles of the educated and highly successful professional. Rarely do we see such a character speak in chaste Tamil throughout the movie – there are at least as many English words intertwined as there are scenes, if not more! The lack of knowledge would make these characters the target of ridicule. Also, it was a good theme to present one of the hero/heroine as a well-educated English-speaking person and the other as a country bumpkin!
Another reason Baradwaj spelt out was the upper-class background, education, and lots of money at the disposal making the character compulsive English speakers. These characters read magazines like Readers’ Digest, SPAN (sigh!), etc. And directors of these films always credited themselves with their qualifications in the titles!

Generation gap was as good a reason as any to have the younger generation speak English dialogues and the older generation mouth them in Tamil. This also gave rise to several hilarious situations that were the result of Tanglish!

Use of English was also used to depict a bit of negativity, according to Baradwaj. The women were generally shown as shrews and the men as arrogant snobs. He showcased the prime example of M R Radha in Ratha-k-kaneer taking to English when he had a good life, and switching to Tamil when he actually needed help and sympathy.

Finally, Baradwaj made the moot point – English was used to bridge the gap and communicate better on screen. Some directors made a character translate the English into Tamil to another character on screen, thus ensuring the audience understood a piece of dialogue delivered in an alien tongue. And, even more hilariously, some directors had English governors and the like mouthing chaste Tamil – all for better communication with the viewer.

It was truly a memorable evening, the initial faux pas with the audio notwithstanding. Though the nervousness showed, particularly after the audio tangle, enhanced by the electrifying presence of a phalanx of film personalities led by the one and only K Balachander, Baradwaj did not let it dominate. And, it turned out exactly as I have speculated in the first paragraph about good writers making good speakers. Yes, Baradwaj joins the hazaar or so good, very good writers making good speakers. Or should we say in Tanglish “Nee oru nalla writer-nnu than nenaichen, I am surprised, nee oru romba nalla speaker kooda!”

A partial list of movies from which clippings were screened:
Punnagai Mannan
Baama Vijayam
Then Nilavu
Padiththal Mattum Podhuma
Gauravam
Pattikaada Pattanama
Ratha-k-kaneer
Anbe Vaa
Mannan
Velaikkaran
Vettaiyadu Vilayadu

2010-08-16T22:18:00.001+05:30

AN OVERWHELMING EVENING

He ends his talk, asks Sriram to finish the formalities and tells the audience he is running a montage of Chandrababu’s songs. “Those who are interested can stay on”, he says. Not a soul moves. That is Mohan Raman for you.

As Mohan completes his presentation, I am at my wits’ end – how do I blog a review of this evening with the massive amount of notes I have taken? And, as I thought about Mohan and his travails – how the hell could he have researched, met the right people, sourced the film clips and put together a presentation like that? If Mohan could take all that trouble for not just about a hundred people that evening, but for his love for the city, I had to say so. And say so through my blog.

As I saunter into The Park on Nungambakkam High Road at around 1820 hrs., happy that I have made it early to find a seat for myself, I find almost all seats taken, but not a soul. They are at the snack counter, eager to finish off before the presentation begins. The hero of the day arrives a little later, well in time for his talk, but the hall is full, notwithstanding the extra chairs commandeered for the crowd, and people end up sitting on the carpets. That is Mohan Raman for you.

Mohan has been presenting for the Chennai Heritage lecture series for four years now, and things have never been different. Always pulling in the crowds, Mohan regales us with wonderful anecdotes, wittily presented. A lovable chide here when a mobile blares, a quick repartee there make the evenings great fun.

This year the lecture was on Madras Bashai and the man who introduced it – J P Chandrababu, that master of the silver screen. Babu, as we shall refer him now on, was a performer par excellence with a wonderful talent for singing, dancing, acting and, as Mohan put it, calling a spade a spade, not matter who or what it was about. This last trait of Babu’s probably ended up with Babu having squirmishes with the probably the entire phalanx of stars of the Tamil tinsel world. Babu was extremely confident in his talents and his films reflected that.

Mohan spun in a perfect example of Babu’s supreme confidence. When Sahodarigal was made by AVM and the edited work was viewed, Chettiar, as AVM was fondly known, worried a lot about how a tearjerker could make it big at the box office. He called for Babu and asked him to see the movie. Babu’s first reaction was that it would bomb and he said as much. Chettiar asked Babu if he could do something. Babu asked for seven days, a few artistes and a free hand to have scenes inserted wherever he wanted. Most importantly, Babu asked for a lakh as remuneration when Chettiar was mulling a tenth of that! Babu, in his plainspeaking tone told off Chettiar: “You lose six lakh if you don’t pay me one lakh”. Such was Babu’s supreme confidence in himself he landed that job, finished the scripting, filming, re-editing and handed over the film to Chettiar in the given time. The film was runaway winner at the box office!

Another interesting nugget was the ‘contrived’ and ‘acted’ out fight between Babu and Sivaji Ganesan in Sabash Meena. In one scene when Babu is asked to stay outside the house with the hand rickshaw, Sivaji enters and picks up an argument. Sivaji little expected Babu to land a blow. The shot was cut, and the next time, Babu gives a shove at Sivaji’s face with his palm. Arguments follow, all when the cameras are rolling (Sivaji too utters a few choice Madras Bashai words here)! At the end, Babu makes a public apology on the camera, as Sivaji exits the scene. A wonderful impromptu performance, notwithstanding the man opposite was as big a superstar as you got!

The most hilarious episode of the evening for me was the way Babu behaved at the Rashtrapathi Bhavan. Invited after a performance to rejuvenate the jawans post the 1962 war with China, MSV, Babu and Sivaji were closeted with the then President Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan. The President asks for a performance, but the three are aghast – the orchestra is already on its way home! Undeterred, MSV asks for a harmonium and Babu sings Pirakkum pothum azhuginran … for the President. Half way through the song, as the President is immersed in the philosophy of the song, Babu jumps across and sits on the President’s lap and continues singing – something that makes the others aghast, but the President enjoys, gently running his fingers through Babu’s hairs!

There were a lot of such interesting snippets of information rendered in an inimitable style only Mohan can. Some of them were how Babu managed to meet S S Vasan; how he picked up Madras Bashai at Triplicane and Mir Sahibpet; his performance in Gul-e-bagavali; his yodeling – then a first in Indian cinema; the irony of Babu playback singing for Sivaji in Kalyanam Panniyum Brahmmachari and for Veenai Balachander in AVM’s Penn, but having Sirkazhi Govindarajan sing for Babu in Sabash Meena; Babu successfully getting in the baila genre through Kungumapoove Konjupurave – a massive hit even today; MSV failing Babu in a voice test and Babu getting his revenge as he rejected tune after tune, only to appreciate the fine work when MSV actually dances out the song – the list is endless.

Babu’s personal life was not a bed of roses – a failed marriage, a not-so-successful beginning and end to his film career, his alcoholism, the list can go on. All this laid bare by Mohan, right in the presence of one of Babu’s family lent a great deal of authenticity. Not that we really needed proof; Mohan is so careful and authentic in his research. His presence is commanding, laugh-a-minute type.

My daughters ask me the question, “Appa, when is Seenu Sir’s lecture this year?” My folks have hated the character Seenu Sir in the Tamil serial Anandam – but loved the actor. I only have this to say: Seenu Sir, if there is one lecture that the entire family turns out to listen to, it is Mohan Raman’s – no matter what he talks about!

For one of the most versatile actors the Tamil film industry has ever seen, the homage could not have come on a platform more apt and by a person more apt. Such was Mohan’s performance that Babu, had he been around, would have been overwhelmed and compelled to say ‘Superaa kalakkitiye – innoru daba sollu naina!”

2010-08-15T23:15:00.000+05:30

AN UNDERWHELMING START

Compared to my rush to reach Music Academy for Landmark 2010, the relaxed manner in which Sivakumar and I reached Taj Connemara was not a surprise. The reason I had even decided to give the finals of the Landmark Quiz (we have never been on stage so far, so that could never be the reason) was that I had a date with the first of the Madras Musings Lecture Series of the Madras Week 2010.

After a rather good time snacking around and catching up with the familiar faces from last year’s lectures, it was time to sit in attention to catch up with what Sivasankari, the popular Tamil writer. The introductions were done with and Sivasankari was at the mike. Sivasankari was speaking about My Madras – the Madras being the one she grew up and earned a name for herself, not the supposedly post-modern Chennai that we live in.

She started off describing herself as a typical Madras girl, and rightly so, though she also spent time at Villupuram (during which time she was at Madras for almost half-a-week) – a small self-introduction. She then set the right tone for the day quickly moving on to how the entire family – remember, it was a joint family of close to 40 people at home – stood around as her father hoisted the national flag and the family sung patriotic songs. That really moved me – would have loved to be in such an atmosphere.

Sivasankari is writer – hugely successful too. I must confess that I have not read much of her writings, but I have liked what little I have. What stood out today was the planning that had probably gone into her lecture, if she had thought ahead last week as to what she was going to tell us today. What also stood out, purely in my personal opinion, was the same planning – that probably is the reason why this piece is titled so.

She had segmented her lecture into three distinct segments – Places, People and Events (read festivals). She roped in the audience with little effort, and as it happens at such lectures, the senior citizens who always outnumber youngsters, always have an I-told-you-so or an I-have-been-there-and-done-that-too kind of look if you are rather unfortunate to catch their eye! There were a lot of such moments today, and I must consider myself lucky that flanking me on one side was Sivakumar and on the other was Karthik Bhatt – arguably waiting to be the next big thing on the Madras heritage scene, a status he richly deserves. We will have more about Karthik in a few days’ time if I am lucky; for the moment we can come back to Sivasankari.

Sivasankari spoke evocatively about her childhood and youth; about the uncle from Dhanbad whose visits the entire family looked forward to, for this offered a chance to have a series of outings with him; of her moonlit dinners on what was then not considered the done thing – at the Elliot’s Beach; how Adyar was done and dusted at Gandhinagar, beyond which there seemed no tomorrow; about the Sun Theatre which was considered low class in comparison to the Rajakumari – apparently the only movie theatre to be named after an actress (!) – which showcased English movies; how she sneaked in wearing a costume to look like an adult to watch an ‘A’ rated movie at Minerva. What must take the cake, or the ice cream, was the description of her movie watching days at the New Elphinstone – more than the movie, the ice cream at Jaffar’s. A very interesting piece of info was that Jaffar had the ice cream sent to your seat in the movie hall if you paid for it in advance and gave your seat number at the time of ordering the ice cream – for what was the Dress Circle class at there. The Satyams and the PVRs – we have done that before you!

Kapaleeswarar temple, the Island Grounds, the Munroe statue, the Congress grounds also found a mention in the lecture. Another surprise for me was that Modern Café, that wonderful restaurant of yester years actually sold food from a van parked on the Marina; for Sivasankari, though, the attraction was the iced water they served! Her reminiscences also took us to the Woodlands Drive-in, the RR Sabha, her birth place on the Boag Road – this is now a wedding hall! She also had a pet deer when she lived in a huge place on Tirumalai Pillai Road!

She then seamlessly integrated her next segment, people. Talking with fervour, she narrated how she got to know the then big names like Kamaraj, Bhaktavatchalam, Rajaji, TTK, and many others. She was particularly fond of the Kalki Gardens as she was close to M S Subbulakshmi. She talked of how her father and many contemporaries used these children to help out when they prepared food for the hordes descending on Kumbakonam for the Mahamaham. Apparently at his wits’ end to mix the rice and sambar for the sambar rice, her father had a concrete mixer thoroughly cleaned and used it for making sambar rice!

The festivals she talked about were Deepavali and the Navaratri. How the parents used to line up the kids as early as 2.30 am to have a ‘gangasnaanam’, the holy bath on Deepavli, how they burst crackers right from 4 am and the wonderful, mouthwatering spread of bakshanams! Navarathri was an equally elaborate affair; the nine-day festival entailing their visits to more than 100 households for kolu, and more than an equal number visiting them!

She also touched upon her association with both Indira and Rajiv Gandhi, the first family in India’s politics then, now and probably forever! She described how Rajiv Gandhi celebrated her birthday on board the Air Force plane in the midst of a state visit!

Well, if you are wondering what was underwhelming about all this, there are two reasons. The turnout was rather disappointing – it was much better last year. But last year opened with Randor Guy’s talk on the sleaze, read crimes at Madras, and this proves that crime pays – even in a heritage series’ lecture! The second was that - at least I felt so - Sivasankari was intent on not overshooting the allotted time. By the time she was done with places, she probably felt she was running short of time and had to rather gallop through the next two of her segments, to use her own words, like Munroe on the horse!

My impressions of the day – an evening very well spent. But it had the potential to be the blockbuster of the lecture series this year (I am not including Mohan Raman’s talks – it is like comparing Sachin Tendulkar to Dravid and the rest), but failed to make it at the last possible centimeter of the race. We could have been party to this rather unwittingly – why do we turn out in large numbers when there are only movies and when there is only sleaze? Our inherent and time-tested interest in others’ personal lives or in the make-believe world of celluloid? Voyeurism? It is time to move on – come on Madras, there is life beyond the movies and sleaze.

2010-08-10T21:45:00.000+05:30

A MULTIPLEX ...

It was an accidental visit to Villivakkam on a Saturday evening that set me back by 600 bucks. The clinic was closed and my daughter insisted we go to just see from outside the multiplex right behind the bus terminus. We did, and I succumbed to the temptation to see what the multiplex was like – why, what a multiplex was like from the inside. The old Royal theatre had made way to its modern avatar – the AGS Royal multiplex. I bought five tickets for Madharasapattinam, not for anything else but the Madras Week coming up. The film was said to contain a lot of shots of old Madras, something that is close to my heart.

We trooped into the multiplex at around 1800 hours on Sunday for an 1815 start of show. The 600 setback immediately rose to 800 – my daughters were simply not complaining about the fare that was on offer. We started with eats and had much more during the intermission – and, why do they call the break in the movies as ‘intermission’ and not ‘interval’?

The theatre was very good. The air-conditioning was awesome and, contrary to the convention in Chennai theatres, was not switched off. The seats were plush, had comfortable levels of pushback. The steps leading to the higher rows were well-lit with blue LED, just enough to find our way but not infringing on viewing pleasure. The sound was good – in all, it offered a very good experience. The wash rooms were also very well maintained and smelled fresh – even during the interval.

Getting a snack was never so easy – no pushing and shoving. Just queue up to the three bill counters, pay and get the receipt. Then you went to the food counter to get your food – they even gave you trays to take the food inside the theatre. The coffee, cardamom tea, cold coffee and hot chocolate were simply superb.

Overall, it was an experience that was worth it – made a bit better by the movie that we watched. I am not sure, though, if I will make a beeline to the next multiplex screen in town.

... AND MADHARASAPATTINAM

As the movie calls itself, its USP is the showcasing of Madras, a city that we now ruefully know as Chennai. The movie is very well made, the cinematography wonderful and the music very good – the songs are still ringing; something you cannot say of music these days. How long these will continue ringing I am not sure, but certainly not as the golden oldies of yore, I suppose.

The story line is the usual, yet a bit different. Taking off on the ‘us’ versus ‘them’ theory, it is love between a local boy and a British girl, set in the 1940s. The issue of the invaders’ highhandedness is settled when the hero bashes up the villain – but at stake is not the girl; it is the livelihood of the hero’s community. As independence dawns on India, it is darkness for the lovers. He is thrown into the Cooum by his lover to save his life; she is herself whisked away to Britain.

The story is narrated in a flashback mode and I could not discern any gaps in the narrative. The comedy track was just right; the performances of the major role-players were up to it, without being spectacular.

Madras Week creeps upon us in a few days’ time, and what better than to freshen up for the week with shots of old Madras! Whether it will help in the quiz or not, I do not know, for I am still not sure of being there at the quiz itself. Is somebody listening?

2010-08-08T22:53:00.000+05:30

START BOTH

A room, two Windows, three Musketeers and a Saturday night. That about sums about the recipe for a wonderful fare dished out at Tiruchirapalli (TPJ) for Ranga, KK and me. We made a visit on a recent Saturday, leaving Chennai Egmore (MS) by Pallavan Exp. Arriving at TPJ about a quarter of an hour early, at 2100 against the scheduled arrival of 2115, after a run made rousing more by the fact that the train supposedly has enormous slack than anything else, we headed out for dinner and then on to the DRMs office where the Control Centre (as the name board declared) was situated.

As we disembarked from the train, I couldn’t but help feeling a bit like Montek Singh Ahluwalia – yes, that sleek-looking, glib-talking Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission. I also couldn’t help feeling that the persons walking alongside were two Kamal Naths. Should the elaborate plan to visit the control centre – yes, I had a Plan A, a Plan B and even a Plan C – fail, then I could have been an ‘armchair planner’ with nothing concrete to offer J

Before going further, a bit of a backgrounder. Bored with stuff like watching trains from a platform of station that is not the place where you live; bored with stuff like noting and publishing road numbers of locos hauling every which train; bored with stuff like discussing the minister’s foibles, it was time to do something different – yet the same – connected with trains. What better way than to spend a night at a controller’s, thought me. And, where would that be? Getting in to a control office even in MAS with contacts would be a tough, if not impossible job. But watching the section controller in whichever section in MAS seemed a bit like aiming at a bull’s eye as large a whole rhino. The challenge lay in aiming at a bull’s eye that seems more like an ant – in this case, trying to wangle a visit to a section where even the most seasoned controllers feel exactly like that, trying to hit a bull’s eye a size of an ant. So, TPJ it had to be.

Is there any other section on IR which witnesses more than 150 crossings each night – if the night can be defined as a narrow window between 2300 and 0400? Is there any other section on IR which has three controllers, with one overseeing the entire 150+ crossings each night; the other just about five or six (in his own words, a section where only 1½ trains run every night!) and the third lucky to see one or two movements (not necessarily crossings) on a badly overworked night? Show us, we will spend a night there – the only condition is that the line must be single!

Coming back to what made me think Montek – we had three plans in place. Plan A looked like coming unstuck right from the time we boarded the Pallavan at MS. Swinging into Plan B right in front of the Pallavan loco at MS, we were asked to contact at 2030 hrs – the time we would be close enough to TPJ. Plan C was also activated, only the person involved in that was just not picking up the phone! We had not completely abandoned Plan A; we kept calling, sometimes even pleading that it had taken us a lot of coaxing and cajoling at the higher places to get this far; requesting that the next lower level at TPJ not abandon us citing bureaucratic hurdles, that too this close to the day, er, night of reckoning. Plan B finally came unstuck at the stroke of 2030 – the contact at MAS had scooted home handing over to his reliever, without as much informing him of the facilitation for us at TPJ! Plan C came unstuck at 2100, the moment we arrived at TPJ – the contact there was just in from NDLS and had a train to work just past midnight and was also at a function. There was no other option it seemed, than to check into a dorm; leave our sparse bags and have dinner. Post-dinner, just walk on to PF 2 and keep a watch on trains coming in and going out, and do the normal railfanning thing like noting loco numbers, setting of speculation if we ever happened to spot something offbeat – that was highly unlikely given the way the evening and the night had panned out that far – and finally, I was also thinking of an alibi or three to explain to Ranga and KK why plans did not work the way they were supposed to. Murphy’s law? That was one I considered.

In about twenty minutes after arrival at TPJ, the dorm beds were taken – two A/c beds were available, the third was a non A/c. The dorms were very good – in fact, much better than the A/c dorm in MAS. They offered almost complete privacy – and unless you were a person indulging in noisy sex, there was not an inch of what your neighbor could see! The non A/c dorm was also a very clean affair. Will get to post some pics on Open Line sooner than later!

We than made our way to a wonderful place suggested by KK – a Hotel Sangeetha, part of Hotel Anand, a good lodge just a stone’s throw away from TPJ railway station. We devoured some idlis, rava dosas and washed them down with strong filter coffee and made our way out in search of the control centre. We arrived at the control centre after looking around for a fair bit of time, wandering off in the opposite direction and then retracing our way. As we walked into the fully air-conditioned building, we really did not know what was to come. We asked for the Dy Chief Controller (we will call him Chief) for the night and were shown a small cabin with two people sitting behind computer. As it always happens, you always ask the wrong person – in spite of the high probability of being correct – and are wrong. It was not different that night; the person we asked showed his index finger at the other person. We introduced ourselves, the purpose of our visit and the official at TPJ we had talked to. After the routine ‘why are you interested in this when you have so many other things to’ kind of questions, we were lucky that the Chief was on the line with the very same official who was our Plan A hope. We would not know what transpired on the phone line, but the moment the phone was disconnected, the Chief would call a Group D to place three chairs in the ‘Chord Line Control’ as the most action-packed arena every night is known as.

There are quite a few cabins and cubicles in the Control Centre. As you walk in from the main door, on the right is the Commercial Control and on the left is the Security. Amble past another door, on the left is the Signal and Telecom control. On the right you enter into a series of cabins placed both on your left and right. The first cabin to the left is where the action takes place every night – the Chord Line Control; on the right is a vacant control cabin that once housed the Vridhachalam – Cuddalore (VRI-CUPJ) section. The second on the left is the Main Line Control – the line that runs from Villupuram (VM) to TPJ via Chidambaram (CDM), Mayiladuthurai (MV), Kumbakonam (KMU) and Thanjavur (TJ). This was the section described as the ‘one-and-a-half-train section!’ On the right lay the Katpadi Control, taking care of whatever there was between VM and Katpadi (KPD). The Chief and his sparse staff for the night took the cabin next to the KPD control cabin.

As we entered the Chord Line Control, the person manning the post just looked at us and welcomed us in. He was about his task of issuing instruction to the stations and taking timings of trains that were passing each station. There was this goods train that had to be somehow moved to a specific location that night, to fulfill the loading quota, at least on paper! There was this rather small issue for us of trains being handed over at VM – the first three or four trains from MS that night – late, the delay ranging from 40 minutes to 10 minutes (Ranga is doing an analysis based on the charts that we managed to procure for ourselves the next morning). The controller explained how this delay would turn out to be the spoilsport that night; he used a master chart on a large cardboard and explained the planned crossings and how they were spread out – if that is the word you could use to term close to 170 crossings over 175 kms at an average of a crossing for just above one km!

The only equipment he had was a Windows system hooked on to two monitors; one to enter the timings and the other showing a graphic illustration of the actual timings of the trains upto the last station and the projection thereafter. There was no AI assistance to the controller – he had to keep it all in his mind. There was a microphone into which he could speak to the SMs directly – to all the SMs of the stations on the section, TPJ RRI cabin and TPJ platform SM. There was a board with short codes for stations to be called – the controller could just press ‘26’ and a ring would go out to VM. There were a few phones as well – all railway phones.

The controller work on a six-hour shift. A reliever came in at 2340, probably signed in and settled down. He was then briefed on the exact status – trains that were handed over late at VM, the specials and the weeklies, one unexpected freighter, additional movement for a light engine, occupation of loops at various stations, etc. As the new man made a mental picture of this, we got ourselves introduced quickly and the controller went about his job. The most famous phrase of the night – in fact, the flavour of the evening was ‘Start Both’ – the term used to detain a train for a crossing, and once crossed, start the detained train too.

As the night wore on, ready to melt into the morning, KK was extremely sympathetic to a light engine that was held up at Ichangadu waiting for a path to Kallakudi Palanganatham. In fact, if the entire night were to be a melodrama, the light engine would be the tear-jerker and KK would have been the one shedding tears. As the night wore on, ready to melt into the morning, ‘Start both’ became a rather monotonous order from the controller to the SMs in the section; just an hour or so earlier, many trains were held over for two crossings – probably the most unlucky of them could have been the 6107/08 MS–MAQ–MS Expresses, 1063/64 MS–SA–MS Expresses and 1044 MDU–LTT Express. As night started to give way to morning, close to 0300, station after station started asking a question of the controller – line clear for up trains? The controller, with a quick glance at the graph monitor (the other one was used to click the timings at stations) cleared this. This meant that all down trains (towards TPJ) were clear of, for example, Ulundurpet station; Ulundurpet now just had to run through all trains towards MS – anything to the contrary would be specifically brought to the notice by the controller.

It was close to 0345 when the burden of staying awake all night was telling on us – the doorplating earlier on the Pallavan was adding to the strain on the eyes – that we decided to call it a day. As the second, then the third, then the fourth station was given all clear for UP trains, we decided to take leave of the Control Centre.

At the end of the night, rather end of the day at a rather surprising time of 0400 at the control, the only overwhelming thought for all of us there – Ranga, KK and the staff included – was the sheer lack of forethought of doubling the line; unfortunately and more foolishly, the electric lobby had won another battle – making the network lose in the bargain.

At the end of the night, rather end of the day, if ever there was one person relieved that it all went off wonderfully well, it was the Montek of the group – the Kamal Naths would be proved wrong. After all, this Montek had three plans ready; the last two failed, but Plan A had clicked. As we sauntered our way and crashed into our beds, the only refrain that was constantly ringing in our ears was ‘Start Both’.

2009-09-10T20:03:00.000+05:30

REGIONAL RAIL MUSEUM

At the end of what is arguably Chennai’s coolest avenue road – this runs parallel to the New Avadi Road from ICF junction to Nathamuni Theatre in Villivakkam, lies the not-so-heavily explored Regional Rail Museum. For the Anna Nagar folks, nothing else that has such a huge connection to India’s rich rail heritage and contemporary importance is on hand to spend a great couple of hours.

The giant Fowler Ploughing Engine stares you in the face as you enter, leaving you agape at the rich heritage strewn around on the exterior of the 6.25 acre RRM. Set up in 2002 as an initiative of the then Railway Minister to promote heritage consciousness and to supplement the National Rail Museum in New Delhi, the RRM at Chennai has taken its time to reach this level of collection.

The collection includes vintage locomotives of all kinds – steam, diesel and electric, and also all gauges. Of special interest to Chennai and certain to kindle bouts of pleasant nostalgia are the YAM1* metre gauge electric locos and the MG EMUs that not so long ago ruled the roost on the Madras Beach-Tambaram-Chengalpattu section. Also on display are some rare carriages of DHR, a dining car, a saloon car, locos like the YDMs*, WCM* etc.

The interiors comprise of photographs of the journey of ICF since its inauguration in 1955, various facilities at ICF and models of coaches manufactured at ICF. Wonderful and rare photographs, artifacts like weighing machine, station bells, hand signal lamps and the odd century old Service Register all jostle for space and the visitors’ attention. A special word about the wonderful photographs snapped by members of the Indian Railways Fan Club – they are simply amazing in their capture of the trains. You can even have a joy ride on the miniature train inside the campus.

At an entry fee of Rs.5/-, this place offers great value for money – where else can you learn so much for so little? The lack of publicity has been the bane of this place, but efforts are being made to inform public. “These days we have close to two hundred visitors a day on weekends and the same number on Tuesdays and Fridays which are visiting days for college students on factory visit”, informs Arun Devaraj, the Director of RRM. “We are making an effort to add more heritage artifacts and also show some short films that will make this visit more interactive”, he adds.

RRM is open to visitors from 10 am to 6 pm on all days, except Mondays. The trip down memory lane is not too far from your doorstep. More details at:

http://www.icf.gov.in/rrm/linkpage/contactus.htm

*For complete information on how Indian Railways classify locomotives, visit IRFCA - this is arguably the best repository on information about Indian Railways.

2009-09-10T19:55:00.000+05:30

FLOWER POWER

If you thought flowers are only for decoration, think again. Amongst the plethora of avenues available to cure people of their illnesses, Flower Therapy has also emerged as one of the options. Flowers, and treatment? Despite skepticism growing in your mind, this therapy is increasing in popularity.

"Dr.Edward Bach of England, an allopath wondered how animals and plants stay healthy and why that comfort was not available to humans, and wandered the forests in search of an answer. He found an answer in some flowers, 38 of them to be precise, which he researched as having therapeutic values", informs Ravi Subramaniyam, Flower Therapist in Chennai. Documented in 1936 or thereabouts, this is one of the currently resurgent alternative remedies available.

"The essence of Bach Flower Therapy is to cure the mental and the emotional imbalances which manifest themselves as illnesses", says Ravi Subramaniyam. "This is now becoming popular, though slowly. People still find it difficult to believe in something simple", he adds.

"Though Flower Therapy is not for treating any disease as such, the corrections of the mental and emotional imbalances like fear, anger, resentment, depression etc. are very effectively addressed. And when these are taken care of, it leads to physical cure", informs Ravi. Physical illness, in Ravi's words, "is a reflection of the mental state of the person. The treatment basically means proper understanding of the patient, listening out with a lot of patience, analyzing the body language. Only then we prescribe remedies".

If you wondered how a bouquet of flowers could cure you, you are right. It is not the flowers per se that treat a person, but the oils or the essences extracted from the flowers that do the trick. "The essences are mixed with spirit for easy assimilation by the body, and a few drops of this mixture is added to a bottle of globules, and used orally like pills", informs Ravi of the nature of the treatment. Sometimes, even sprinkling of water mixed with the Flower Remedies can work, according to Ravi. Some of the flowers that are useful as remedies are sweet chestnut, pine etc.

There has also, of late been a lot of soul searching about the medicines and what goes into such alternative remedies, and their side effects. "These are fully natural, extracted from nature, and have absolutely no side effects. How can nature contaminate itself?" counters Ravi, adding, "after all, it is a natural way to a cure". This is also the reason why there are no regulatory issues or drug controllers breathing down the neck. "It is totally safe, and anybody with some understanding can read a good book on Flower Therapy and practice the same, at least at home. It is a very good home remedy", Ravi informs.

Getting an average of four to five patients a day, Ravi believes that this could not only be a panacea for most common illnesses, but also be a good cure for many chronic cases. Like the man with a ten year history of sciatica, being cured in a few sittings, or the college girl, who was depressed due to ragging, and saw her grades slide, scoring well in the week after she had a dose prescribed by Ravi, the success stories are slowly coming in.

It could very well be the next big thing in medicare, or it could well be a flash in the pan. But one thing is for sure – Flowers can be given a chance. Being totally safe, Ravi says, "this therapy can be supplementary as well and there is no need to stop the present line of treatment, and it does not involve and change in lifestyle". Will people give flowers a chance?

2009-09-10T19:50:00.000+05:30

TRAVEL BY THE 10 MAIL

This train is not featured here because of the number it had for a long time – 10 mail, but the connection helps. For long this was the flagship train between Chennai and Bombay VT – as it was then called, until the superfast avatars took over. It is also probably the oldest between the two metros, and still quite popular.

Though now numbered as the 6010 mail, it is still lovingly referred to as the 10 mail. It has never boasted of being the fastest – in fact, it could well qualify to be among the slowest trains out of Chennai. The format has not changed – the two nights one day journey being the same; give or take an hour or two.

As with many slow trains on this largely single line route – this is the one that is stopped to allow the other trains to cross. This and the fact that it stops at many small villages en route gives you a wonderful insight into the quaint tiny villages and the railway environment nearby. "The 10 mail stops here" – they would say in those days, when asked about the hometown of the would be bride!

This could also be a very religious train out of Chennai – the pilgrims to Puttaparthi get off at Anantapur, those headed to Mantralayam have the Mantralayam Road station and those to Pandharpur can get off at Solapur or Kurduwadi. Many headed to Shirdi also get off at Daund to take connecting trains or buses. The big draw is that this train reaches these places at earthly hours. It also crosses many rivers considered religious – the Tungabhadra, the Krishna and the Bhima are among these. Children throwing coins into the rivers is a common sight.

A unique twist in the tale comes between Gulbarga and Solapur – there are two small wayside stations in this section with what is called the Scissors Crossing. The train has to go past the signal, back up on the loop line, and wait for the opposite train to cross. This type of crossing is very rare – and the only two stations in this near 1300 kms provide a wonderful insight into the working of the railways – if you happen to be detained for crossing.

And, at Solapur, you finally can have the best Pav Baji served on a Railway Platform by a departmental caterer – not counting the 5 star type of Food Courts that have sprung up.

If you are a lover of high speed action, then this is not the train for you. If your love to take in the scenes slowly, ambling on platform when the train stops for long, running out of a crossing station for a quick smoke (without the attendant penalty), then this is the train is for you. After all, there is life in 10 mail, and it could be 10 times more enthralling than on the speed demons!

2009-09-10T19:41:00.000+05:30

A DIARY OF PLATFORM 10

Occupying the pride of place in the scheme of things at Central, Platform No. 10 sees the arrival and departure of many an important train, most of which are the longest – 24 coaches – to operate out of Chennai.

Starting from the Kovai Exp at 06.15, when the early morning calls of kaapi..kaapi rustle the silence of bleary eyed people both in the outside the train, a lone newspaper vendor, who is perennially short of small change sells the hottest news of the day. As the train leaves, he should be the one who makes a neat pile – courtesy small change.

Then the turn of the incoming trains starts – the Cheran, the Grand Trunk Exp or the Tamil Nadu Exp – some of the 24 coach trains that come into Chennai are received here – there are only 6 out of 11 platforms that can handle this length. The hustle and bustle as the trains troop in – the passengers happy to be on PF 10 – the call taxi stand and the suburban platforms are nearby. Passengers haggling with porters, some with auto drivers who have made their way well into the complex, some stopping at the Food Court for a cup of long lost filter coffee are some of the scenes you can encounter.

The lull thereafter lasts till about 1.15 p.m., when the Tirupathy Exp arrives, disgorging a whole load of passengers, many of them flower vendors who carry fresh jasmine from places nearby Nagari in AP. Loads are stacked in the aisles, toilets (!), under seats, and are pulled out and headed off to the flower bazaar – may be your next puja is with one of these strands of flowers.

The Grand Trunk, which is truly the Grand Daddy of trains is the next to leave Chennai at 4.30 p.m. Huge parcels fight for space with leaden footed passengers lugging heavy baggage, as the contractors of the luggage vans make a killing – probably the most profitable train alongwith the Tamil Nadu Exp is about to leave. The Railways' earning also must be phenomenal – considering that it is difficult to book luggage on these trains unless you are an early bird. This entire scenario repeats itself again when the Tamil Nadu Exp leaves at 10.00 p.m.

As the GT, as it is fondly called, leaves, there is hardly any breather. The rake of the Charminar Exp is on the Platform – all 24 of them of 2005 make, and glistening in the evening sun bouncing off the coaches. This is the only train as of now to have rakes with the CBC couplers – considered to be technically superior. The passengers are also radiant with surprised at the newfound comfort. Men and women, some commuters from nearby places in AP – almost all with heavy luggage move here and there to find their seats till the train leaves.

The Tamil Nadu Exp is the next to leave at 10.00 p.m. and the scene is no different from that of 4.30 p.m. when the GT left. A very popular train, this is probably the fastest non Rajdhani type of train out of Chennai.

As the Tamil Nadu Exp leaves, almost fifteen to twenty thousand pairs of feet would have stamped their impression on this Platform. Almost a half of them would be passengers, the rest would be the people coming in to see them off and the vendors and the railway staff. No wonder then, that this could be the busiest and the most used Platform on the Chennai Central complex.

Silence will descend on the platform at around 10.30 p.m., if the Yercaud Exp leaves from some other platform. Else the Platform will go to sleep only close to midnight – a very short catnap till the rake of the Kovai Exp arrives – to start another day afresh.

2009-09-10T19:33:00.000+05:30

A TALE OF TWO TRAINS

A DREAM….

Just five minutes after the Mysore Chennai Shatabdi Express pulled out
of Bangalore City towards Chennai, an excited Sweta, all of 6 years,
pulled out the Blackberry from her father's hip pouch and was on the
line to her grandparents. "Paati, they have given me a welcome drink,
a sandwich, chocolates, samosa and chocolate wafers", she shouted to
her paati unmindful of the glances thrown towards her. As her mother
reined her voice in, she continued her description about the train.

The Chennai Mysore Chennai Shatabdi Express retains the charm of the
days since its inauguration way back in the mid 1990s. In fact, this
train has an enhanced prestige over the last two years, getting the
ISO 9001 certification in February 2006. A slew of additional quality
control checks are in place and these really add some comfort to the
passenger, as Madrasplus checked out close to the second anniversary
of the certification.

The coaches are maintained well, though the age of around 15 years shows.
These coaches are hand-me-downs of the Shatabdi Expresses in the North
- those have been upgraded to newer technology coaches. The catering
service is courteous and the food is good. The menu changes almost on
a daily basis – regular travelers need not complain about eating the
same stuff on every journey. "We have a rotation system in place, and
ensure that items are not repeated more than twice a week", informs
Shammi Kumar, the on-board Manager of CKK Caterers who handle the
catering.

"This train runs full most of the days", informs the Train
Superintendent of the day. "There are days when people request us to
allow them in the train", he added. In fact, Shammi Kumar informed
that sometimes passengers stand near the service area, when the
waiting list is not cleared. "This train has retained its popularity
– in fact, this is seeing increased patronage and runs into waitlists
on many days", informs the Train Superintendent. The catering Manager
informs that they always have a buffer stock of extra food to meet
exigencies.

The train itself is maintained very well. The maintenance staff are
very active and go about their work in an unobtrusive way, spraying
air fresheners every hour or so, cleaning the toilets and swabbing
them clean every now and then besides attending to specific
complaints. The toilets are very clean – they contain all the
fittings like soap dispensers, tissue rolls, tissue dispensers and
quality taps. What is important is that these consumables are
replaced and never run out of stock. The flushing mechanism is
improvised to dispense a fixed amount of disinfectant during each
flush. The coaches and the toilets smell fresh, making the journey
that much more comfortable.

The run is good – the train pulls into Chennai mostly on time. This
is the much-preferred option for those who have a few hours of work at
Bangalore – an early morning departure and a late evening arrival
means that they are back home in the night. "This is what I do at
least once a week", says Venkataraman. "Taking a flight does not save
me much time – the transfers to and from the airport and the
additional cost involved puts me back", he adds. "And if it is
maintained as it is, I will never take a flight from Chennai to
Bangalore", he declares.

Southern Railways' initiative on the amenities front, at least for
this train has paid them back – and handsomely. It has brought in
praise from the passengers, dedicated service from the staff and more
importantly, converted at least a few flight seats into train
waitlists.

…..AND A NIGHTMARE

Vani Datta, all of 37 years now, was as excited as Sweta was today –
on a warm summer morning of early 1970s. She was to make her first
trip by the Brindavan Exp – the fastest train between Chennai and
Bangalore at that time. This was the first time that the Railways had
allowed pass holders to travel, and Vani's father had waited for
reservation from 2 am about a month before the journey. She lacked
the communication of these days, but her paati was equally excited
when she narrated the journey two days later at her native place.

"Paati, there is a canteen (sic) in the train where they cook and give
you food. You should not return the coffee cups, you can throw them
out!" were some of her excited stories of her memorable journey. "A
journey by the Brindavan Express today is still memorable", she says
on the phone from Mumbai, adding, "but for all the wrong reasons".
Once the most prestigious train of Southern Railways, this is the
story of how things can go horribly wrong in some cases.

"We are very well aware that this is almost a dead train", admits a
top Railway official – on the condition of anonymity. No official was
willing to come on record to speak about the negatives. "We are
really unable to figure out how to restore the train to its glory
days", says the same official very defensively. The train now takes
an hour more than it did in the early 1970s – and that is not what
technology improvement in the Railways had done to this train!

"Indiscriminate addition of stoppages has made this a pale shadow of
its hoary past", says one of the Railway ticket checking staff on
duty. "I remember that the train used to stop only at Katpadi,
Jolarpettai and Bangalore Cantonment earlier. Now Krishnarajapuram,
Bangarpet, Kuppam, Ambur, Walajah Road and Arakkonam have been added",
rues Ramachandran, a former Railway staffer.

"It is not about adding stops – it is about comfort", says the Ticket
Examiner of the day. There were many passengers standing in the
aisles and near the doors of all the compartments – almost a hundred
of them even in reserved compartments. "It seems this train is
reserved fully for unreserved passengers and the reserved passengers
cannot even use the wash basins and the toilets", remarks Cheyanna, a
Bank Manager from Coorg. There were at least a hundred hawkers,
beggars and eunuchs that made this trip 'memorable'.

"We are not able to do anything about this", admits the Travelling
Examiner. "At best, each one has to work three coaches – keeping
unreserved passengers out even if we have only one coach is nearly
impossible", he admits. "The hawkers and beggars cannot be
controlled, as the 'right' people have been taken care of by them', he
adds.

As if to add to all this, the Pantry Car has been handed over to a
private contractor – the breakfast was not ready even after an hour of
the train leaving Chennai. What was served later, though, was much
better than the departmental stuff that came our way until a few
months ago.

"If the train has to be restored to its glory days, there has to be
very strict - sometimes inhuman monitoring to prevent unreserved
passengers in reserved compartments is the only answer", adds another
Railway official. He also admits, "it is not the only measure that we
have to take – in fact we should try and work out a shadow train that
has more stops and more unreserved compartments, so that season ticket
holders find it difficult to reach offices on time by this prestigious
train".

More shameful is that this train runs at more than 55kmph – the norm
to keep it superfast for additional charges. "We shell out more money
for abysmal comfort, harassment of reserved passengers, and to arrive
15-30 minutes late most of the days – this is the biggest mockery of a
glorious train", says Cheyanna.

Even if the Railway officials admit that there is nothing that can be
done, there is some hope – the Railway Minister has promised in one of
his budgets that there is a plan for upgradation of prestigious trains
and the Brindavan Exp is one of them. "I will surely come back to see
that great train on its rebirth", says Vani Datta. One only hopes
that it is revived from its deathbed sooner than later!

2009-09-04T22:29:00.000+05:30

TECHNICAL WRITING, ANYONE?

As an avid quizzer, I have been participating and conducting quizzes for more than twenty years. I always consider it a challenge to conduct quizzes, and have a wonderful team of Rajaram and Sundar to take up the challenge jointly. But, though a challenge, I really sweat at the thought of conducting quizzes for young kids—particularly in the 5–12 years age group. It is just in the mind, or is it? It requires a lot of, as they say, dumbing down—trying to get down more than a notch in our thought process, framing questions to what we think will challenge the kids just that much.

When somebody broached the subject of technical writing—yes, the work of documentation and writing user manuals and the like—I seemed to take it very easy. Have I not been writing for publications such as The Economic Times, The Hindu and other well-known publications for years now?

I took up the challenge and how! The friend asked me to write a simple instruction booklet on “How to make a Paper Boat,” and I just brushed it off and got started.

“Take a piece of paper and fold it into four. Now hold one flap and fold it to form a triangle. Hold the other three flaps …,” so I went and completed it in a few minutes. Imagine the shock of my life when the friend asked the following questions:

Can I take any shape of paper? A round or a triangle?
Where to hold the flap and how to fold?
If the paper is rectangle in shape, how do I make it square?
and many more …

He also patiently explained that I had to come down quite a few notches to make things comprehensible for the average reader of instructional material. That was really difficult. Try as I may, there was always a question or two that the friend asked me in my multiple attempts to write a simple manual to make a paper boat!

That was also when I decided to do something about this—I joined a course and learned a lot of new things about dumbing down my writing. The course could have been much better, but there’s still the project that has to be done.

What I learned has helped me a lot, and I still go through the material whenever I find time. There are a few things about technical writing that I have resolved not to forget—the target audience is of utmost importance; the instructions should be easy to understand; break down the complexities into small tasks and then go about writing sub-units for these small tasks; and many more.

It is no longer daunting, say, if someone were to come up to me and ask me to write an instructional piece on how to make a paper kite, or how to reserve a train ticket at the counter. What might still be daunting, though, is to conduct a quiz for eight-year old children!

2009-08-19T16:54:00.000+05:30

‘CAR’ODU THAAN NAAN PESUVEN!

MADRAS DAY – 18TH AUGUST 2009

Just before the lecture began, somebody asked C V Karthik Narayan whether he was raring to go like a horse. Karthik’s repartee at the top of his speech was, “Yes, you decide at the end whether I neigh or bray.” That really set the tone for a historical walk down memory lane, oops, that should be a drive down memory lane—it isn’t for anything that Chennai is the new-age Detroit!

He turned the ignition key on with maps of Chennai on the screen, and I was surprised that I did not realize till then, that with the possible exception of the OMR and the ECR, all roads radiating out of Chennai have a strong presence in either Automobile or ancillary manufacturing. The fact that Chennai has sustained what has been arguably the most auto-industry friendly metropolitan agglomeration speaks volumes about the foresight of the visionaries who ruled the roads—rather, ruled the machines that ruled the roads.

The long and rewarding journey actually started in 1840, when the Simpsons group set up shop in India, apparently to manufacture harnesses and the like. They then went on to make coaches, palanquins and the Howdah for Buckingham, the architect of the Buckingham Canal. Being a railfan myself, I was rather ashamed that I did not know that Simpsons manufactured the coaches for the first ever rail run from Royapuram to Arcot! Simpsons’ long VIP list got longer when they made coaches for the Nawab of Rampur—complete with leaf spring shock absorbers for a smooth ride!

Simpsons, in 1900, experimented with a kerosene—water car, according to Karthik. In 1904, the first car, was registered in the name of Alexander Spring of the Madras Port Trust, and the number was M.C. 1, and the first Indian to own a car was Namberumal Chetty, when he got the number M.C. 3. Karthik’s grandfather had a car registered in 1910, with the number M.C. 226. That means only 226 cars were registered in the period 1904–1910. The number swelled to 9,000 by 1920. Eight years for 9,000 cars—today we do as much in a month?

The journey got another boost in 1940, when Buick jumped in with a gas-plant fitted car, and they had people go right up to Peshawar to sell these! That was a period when giants like Visveswarayya thought about cars, Lalchand Hirachand talked cars. In the 1940s, Raghunandan Saran came down all the way from Delhi to set up Ashok Motors, the precursor to Ashok Leyland that we know today. The first Austin A40 was assembled in Ashok Motors. After the war, the auto industry got its big push with Hirachand at Bombay, Hidustan Motors at Calcutta and the TELCO at Jamshedpur looking to make it happen.

In between, Addison tied up to assemble the Morris Minor, but the then government regulations meant that Madras was getting crowded. Yes, there could not be more than three manufacturers at one port city, and Madras already had three.

The story of Ashok Motors, particularly after their collaboration with Leyland is one of spectacular rise. AL were the leaders in every sense of the word. They were the pioneers of multi-axle vehicles, owned a test track and probably had the best R & D in India! No wonder, the Indian Army relies heavily on AL!

Standard Motors started operations in a shed in Chromepet and assembled tractors that were manufactured by Massey Fergusson. When Massey Fergusson bought over the Standard Motors at Coventry, the factory in Madras moved to Perungalathur, and started manufacture of the Standard Vanguard. Standard also developed the Herald, the iconic car, from scratch and probably was way to ahead of its times with two doors, advanced suspension and what not.

Government regulations did not help at all—the prices were fixed by the Government, with the Herald costing all of 14,320 INR. Prices could not be hiked easily in the absence of an escalation clause. The fight went till the Supreme Court. It was no surprise then, that the volumes were low, at least till 1985, when the curbs were eased a bit. Earlier in 1982, Standard came up with the Standard 20, a van as advanced as you could get then. Fully tested for crashworthiness and for aerodynamics at the IIT, Madras, it was a winner, ferrying athletes at the Asiad in Delhi.

Some non Standard stuff now. In 1957, Sundaram Iyer collaborated with Enfield to start Royal Enfield, and brought out India’s first four-stroke 350 cc motorbike. What a rhythmic beat the Bullet has! Even today, it will put any pretender to shame.

The biggest advantage, according to Karthik, has been the strong presence of the ancillary industry. The TVS group, the Rane group, UCAL and many more have never had second thoughts of collaborations, investments and taking risks.

Though Standard Motors had to meet a sudden closure, with the powers that be not being really too helpful, the economic liberalization meant that the halcyon days of Madras at the forefront of the auto industry were never really in doubt, and how Madras has reclaimed it!

The speech itself was enlightening, aptly presented on a powerpoint presentation—though Karthik confessed to being rather frightened at the prospect of using a laptop. The photographs gelled excellently with Karthik’s speech, and the generous humour left everyone satisfied at the end of the day.

If there were any doubts about what Karthik ended up doing, he certainly neighed as well as any pedigree would have! It is about time that he changed his name to ‘Car’thick!

2009-08-18T16:59:00.000+05:30

MELODY PAO….KHUD JAAN JAO

MADRAS DAY – 17TH AUGUST 2009

As I have already made clear, my knowledge of fine arts like Indian classical music, dances is not even worth two paise, and can be written on the back of a postage stamp! For me, though, any fine arts performance qualifies as a good one if, at the end of the day, I come back satisfied having spent a worthwhile time.

That was exactly the feeling, and much, much more when I exited THE PARK after a great speech—should we say performance, or should we say a lecdem—by Aruna Sairam, the famous Carnatic vocalist.

Aruna recalled her early days in Bombay, the never-ending visits by famous singers, her encounters with them and the quality time she spent listening to and learning Carnatic music. Her interactions with her guru, a rather hard taskmaster and another of those icons of Carnatic music, Brinda, were enjoyable. The standout among them was about the one time when another student had brought a notebook to take notes of the music class. Brinda apparently was fidgeting and shifty—not yet prepared to begin her classes. Finally, as the students gathered courage to ask her, Brinda, seeing the notebook, chided the girl: (Enna, kaadhu kondu varaliya?) “Have you forgotten your ears at home?”

The lecture was also more about what singing in Madras meant. She confessed rather candidly that the decision she took to move to Madras to further her singing career was late. She rued the day when there were hardly a handful to listen to her on her first two visits to Madras. She was well received in private functions, public performances abroad and elsewhere in India. However, according to her, “An artiste’s true worth is when the discerning Madras audience accepts a singer.” That she has given it her all and made it good is ample testimony to her grit.

Particularly, when you hear her say, “Once, I was singing with a Mani mama—my child on my laps and the sambar boiling in the kitchen. Swara after Swara after Swara, when Mani mama interrupted me and gave me sound advice—‘Do not go for a wide range that you cannot handle. Develop lateral thinking around a limited range’—those were golden words I cannot forget.” Or when she confesses about feeling rather lost in Madras, wondering what to do with her hard-earned knowledge, when a group of friends came up and gave her a piece of their mind—yes, a bit of advice about where she should improve to make it big, like changing her repertoire and other small adjustments. This was when she felt like, in her own frank words, the proverbial ‘Dhobi ka kutha, na ghar ka, na ghat ka’!

Another moving anecdote—it moved many in the audience too—was when a rather distraught woman walked in to the Green Room at a sabha. (Aruna says, “I was happy at least someone came into the Green Room—anyway there were not many in front of the stage,” rather candidly). The lady requested Aruna to sing a song that she had heard at one of her previous performances, and added that the consequences of not taking home the pay today—she would have got it five days later—would be rather serious, but she was determined to stay put to listen to the song. Aruna proved that she was human, after all, as it was obvious for all to see that she was wiping a tear off the corner of her eyes.

She had a very forthright answer when I asked her how much of an influence Hindustani music had on her. “In Madras, I have the reputation of singing Carnatic through Hindustani.” That was following her wonderful rendition of an Abhang!

She interspersed her wonderful speech with some songs, like gems standing out in a crown, only that most of us were not satisfied. We would rather have had it the other way round. At the end of the day, rather the evening, if a two-paise worth fine arts rasika like me felt wanting more, there can be no greater tribute to Aruna and her voice—whether speaking or singing.

2009-08-17T16:15:00.000+05:30

MADRAS WEEK – DAY 1 – 16TH AUGUST 2009 – PART 2

A friend, Sivakumar, my wife and I reached the Park Sheraton at around 1520 hrs, well in time for the first of the Madras Musings Lecture series scheduled for 1600 hrs. The venue was Dublin, the discotheque of the hotel. A very apt venue indeed, for a speech titled ‘Some scandals of Madras.’ The speaker needs no introduction—Randor Guy, the evergreen legal eagle, historian, film buff and what not.

Not having stepped into Dublin earlier, we took a rather long time finding where it was. We had to ask at least three people to get there, only to be welcomed by a “Sorry, Sir, the disco opens at six.” We explained we were there for a lecture—I am sure the guy at the entrance couldn’t figure out how on earth could we spend time on a dance floor—a paunchy 43-year old, another white-bearded 43 year old and DVT affected lady! Thank God we were there early—the seats were full at about 1545. Additional seating was arranged, and we were invited to some wonderful cookies, fruit juices and a great filter kaapi.

The setting was perfect, dim and diffused lighting, just like they say the time when scandals happen. The anecdotes came thick and fast from Randor; he did not name any person as he espied that there were some descendants attending the speech. The scandals he touched upon were the one involving a Maharajah (who was a zamindar and liked to call himself a Maharajah!) and his wife and children; the English wife of an English principal of an ‘unapproved’ college who it seems loved to move the students from their class desks to her bed; the one involving a rather poor but in Randor’s words ‘curvaceous, bosomy Sita’; and one that probably smelt all the way to a vice-president!

There was a tinge of disappointment, though. Randor must have held back deliberately—the punches were a tad lesser than in the previous years. But whatever was there was lapped up in glee and loud laughs by the audience, which had by now swelled to people sitting on the stairs. When it all ended, many must have felt that the dinner was over with the appetiser! We were all waiting for more, if not in terms of more scandals, just for the sake of hearing a no-holds-barred Randor. There is always a next time, and I only hope that the Randor Guy will speak on ‘Some more scandals of Madras,’ or at least ‘The cabaret dances of Madras,’ and the venue is Dublin again. Would it help to have a performance as well, if the topic is the latter? No harm done, more than half of us there were beyond the sell-by age!

2009-08-16T21:42:00.000+05:30

AN ENTHRALLING BEGINNING

MADRAS WEEK – DAY 1 – 16TH AUGUST 2009

It was exactly the kind of a start that I had expected—explosive, enthralling and educating. It was also exactly the kind of a start that I had foreseen—bleak, dreary and a sense of a missing something. To deal with the latter first, Rajaram was not here to celebrate. I am sure his heart would have been in Madras, but the physical part of him was in far away Muscat. I would have preferred to have him seated right beside me—but it was not to be. The wait is long; he will be here on the 20th, hopefully in time to catch Mohan Raman and his talk on Nagesh, the evergreen comedian.

Let us now deal with the former. Well, the day dawned with a faux pas. A lazy week meant that I had not registered for the Dubash walk, and there was no Rajaram to chauffeur us on a two-wheeler; yes, the response was overwhelming and all three or four vehicles that had to be booked for the walk were full.

I was determined to catch the next event called ‘People’s Park Vazhi Nadai Chindu,’ an enactment on the walk in 1915 of a couple, all the way from Mulla Saheb Street in Sowcarpet to the Arupathumoovar Festival at the Kapaleeswarar Temple in Mylapore. It was all the more interesting to know that the walk was set to a song in 1915 called the Vazhi Nadai Chindu—in a genre that is called the Gujili.

Well, the Gujili is a genre that was famous in the days of almost no newspapers, no television and no real way of disseminating news. The Gujili was the answer to all these negatives—the news was packaged into neat little sound bytes camouflaging as verses, or was it the reverse? Sung on the streets or in parks, these songs spread news of all kinds; serious headline stuff like Bhagat Singh’s hanging to the typical page 3 stuff like who was ‘dating’ whom! The fact that the lyrics were printed on cheap paper and priced at a quarter of an anna did not make it a newspaper—it was called a ‘kaalanna’ pathirikkai. That the walk took the form of a Gujili song and was printed did not make it Page 3 stuff, or did it?

I have also never been a ‘rasika’ of the fine arts in the sense of blurting out ‘sabaash’es and ‘bale’s at the drop of a hat. I cannot identify a Kaapi from a Todi, but can sure appreciate a good sounding raga rendered well. Same with the dances too. I had doubts as to how Bharathanatyam would deal with a typical Page 3 subject like the Gujili song of a couple on a daylong date, even if for devotional reasons. Believe me, I was happy to be proved wrong, happier to be there for the performance, and happiest to know that I could finally comprehend not only what went with the dance, but the dance itself.

Gayatri Balagurunathan and P.T. Narendran did a wonderful job of enacting the People’s Park Vazhi Nadai Chindu. The emoting and the movements were tailor-made, rather choreographed to perfection by Natyarangam of the Narada Gana Sabha. As S. Janaki gave out the details of how this was made workable, it really sunk in what it takes to enact such an informal song using a format as classical as the Bharathanatyam. The dancers gave it their all, enthralling the three hundred odd invitees at the TAG Center. The places the ‘dating’ couple saw on the way like the temples as they set out from on the Mulla Saheb Street, the then Madras Zoo, the Victoria Public Hall, the temples on the way down to the sweet stall where they dropped by for snacks were all depicted with panache that I had at least till now not seen in my rather limited viewing of classical arts. The temporary deviation notwithstanding, the couple finally reach the temple and have a very satisfying darshan of the Arupathumoovar at the Kapaleeswarar temple. Whether it was Sriram’s selection of photographs to go with the performance, or it was the performance that embellished the photographs I would never know, but what I know for certain was the perfect jugalbandi complementing each other. The standing ovation that the performance received was a testimony of the sheer power of Gayatri and Narendran’s showing.

Sriram later held centre stage. His presentation, the selection of photographs and his humorous narrative equalled, if not excelled the dance show earlier in the morning. I have known speakers use humour to camouflage their lack of mastery in the subject, but Sriram uses humour to embellish his expertise on the subject. The audience was in rapt attention one moment, in splits the next; going quiet rapidly lest they miss something of note. These cycles of silence and laughter were aplenty, and the end of the day, the fact that Sriram was mobbed is adequate proof of this man’s ease of language and mastery of subjects, more so if they are related to periods earlier than his birthday!

But before all this unfolded, I entered TAG centre a rather hungry man, not finding a place to eat some decent breakfast. Imagine my surprise when I was guided to the dining hall to a rather sumptuous breakfast of Pongal, Vadai and Carrot Halwa. How can I eat idlies when Pongal is served? Washed down with a wonderful filter kaapi, I could have easily been lulled into sleep. But Gayatri, Narendran and later Sriram ensured that not one person in the audience let out even as much a yawn —if this is not a perfect start to the Madras Day, then nothing ever is.

2009-08-10T21:19:00.000+05:30

A LANDMARK LANDMARK

Yes, the Landmark Quiz at Chennai on Independence Day is THE biggest Open quiz ever in India.

Yes, Landmark has been on since 1989, and Rajaram has been there every year, at least until 2008.

Yes, Landmark has been on since 1989, and I have been there with Rajaram every minute he was there.

Yes, till 2008 we were probably two of the very very few people who had marked attendance at every Landmark.

Yes, we have never made it to the stage at Landmark.

Yes, we have never probably crossed 25 in the prelims.

Yes, in spite of all that, there has never been a quiz more enjoyable.

Yes, we have cheered every team that has made it to the final, more so QED.

Yes, it has now become more of an ‘intellectual’ picnic for us—packing snacks and what not.

Yes, every year we diligently write down events and topics to read more about, but we end up where we started—always off stage.

Yes, who will change my correct answer to a wrong one?

Yes, who will change Rajaram’s correct answer to a wrong one?

Yes, what will Sundar do with his seating superstitions?

Yes, will Rajaram wear the Malaysia T-shirt at home on Independence Day?

Yes, Landmark goes all India this year.

Yes, we have registered for Landmark this year.

Yes, so sad that Rajaram will not make it this year.

Yes, I am feeling a lump in my throat to be there without Rajaram.

Yes, but I will be there—for Rajaram’s sake.

Yes, this will be my first there without Rajaram.

Yes, this will be his first not being there with me.

Yes, every single point we get will be dedicated to Rajaram.

Yes, every single miss will also be blamed on Rajaram.

Yes, without Rajaram, it is indeed a Landmark Landmark!

2009-07-11T20:59:00.000+05:30

GOING GREEN!

It was a rather impulsive decision to travel to MYS and return on the same day by the 2007/08 Shatabdi Express. A call confirming that Madrasplus would like to have a feature on the new rake came in at around 1130 hrs—I scurried calls to home to get my wife book tickets on IRCTC for the next day. I was wait listed at 36 for the onward and 9 for the return.

I left home at 0510 hrs, well in time to catch the AM4 EMU to Chennai. The train arrived at around 0520, three minutes late. As we passed Vysarpadi, I caught a glimpse of the debris of the horrible runaway train and the WDS 4B loco, which were involved in a crash a few months ago. We made it to Moore Market Complex at 0535 hrs. I just walked out on the opposite side and had a relaxing puff or two, and returned to the main concourse at MAS.

I had earlier received a call that 2007 was berthed on PF2A (the only double discharge platform in MAS, not counting the suburban platforms at MMC), and I entered into my C3 coach and placed my bag on seat 19, a window seat. I just wandered off to check a few things, one of which was that my coach number was LACCZ 08152C. The occupancy was very good, with just about eight seats or so vacant in most coaches—this can be explained by the increased carrying capacity of LHB coaches.

The composition: Loco-EOG-C7 to C1-EC-EOG

We left at 0600 hrs, headed by the monster 22390, with just one short little jerk—I was already enjoying the ride! I was also looking forward to more jerks as described by other trips on LHB coaches elsewhere. We made our way through the points and picked up the first green signal immediately, just before the Wall Tax road bridge. It was just the beginning of a wonderful green-ridden ride, as I was to discover at about 2115 hrs later that evening.

Immediately, the catering staff gave us a water bottle, the newspaper of the day—I settled for Deccan Chronicle, having purchased The Hindu, The New Indian Express and The Economic Times at the stall in MAS. We also got a tray welcoming us to the train, with a pack of two Brittannia Mariegold and two Nutrine Eclairs chocolates, followed by a cup of coffee/tea. I opted for a rather good cup of coffee, and got myself another cup to drive away the morning blues.

We passed the Veysarpadi (yes, that is how the cabin is spelt) Junction at 30 kmph and by the time we were passing the accident-destroyed debris, the short rake meant that we were doing around 45 kmph. We passed Perambur (PER), my base at close to 100 kmph at around 0609 hrs. I refrained from making a call home—as I usually do from a long-distance train—not wanting to disturb the lady of the house the kids. Gowri’s den was passed at mps, and we immediately slowed down for a caution order at Korattur (KOTR). We were then treated to what I have probably never experienced before. In 31 minutes, at around 0631, we were slowing down to change tracks after the Tiruvallur home signal from the down fast to the down line. We passed the Tiruvallur (TRL) cabin at 0632—that would be timing declared by TRL to the controller. As we passed TRL, we were already close to 110 kmph, the MPS for the section. The MAS TRL distance is about 42 kms.

We slowed down again as we entered Arakkonam (AJJ) at around 30 kmph at 0701, which meant we had done 70 kms in about 61 mts. The LP picked up speed like there was no tomorrow, and we were waltzing along merrily like Alice in wonderland. We, for just the second time in my life, were doing about 75 kmph as we passed Katpadi (KPD), crossing an unknown Express parked on the platform line. We zoomed past the loco of the train hauled by an AJJ WAM4 at 0735, taking exactly 34 minutes to do the 62 kms from AJJ—with one caution order of 20 kmph!

I was always moving around in the coach—I had shifted to seat 68 and was all alone. The catering manager got a bit queasy about this and got a bit suspicious that I could be from IRCTC, doing a surprise quality check. I could overhear him telling in Malayalam to one of his staff asking him to take good care of me  Breakfast was served as we were crossing KPD, and the catering staff asked me whether I would eat Veg or Non-veg. He confirmed that Pongal vada was on the menu for Veg breakfast, and I opted for the same, obviously. My love for this is explained here:

http://sridharjoshi.blogspot.com/2009/05/pongal-oh-pongal-on-rather-cool.html

I was extremely disappointed to see upma, and not Pongal in the casserole. It was tasty, though a disappointment for a diehard Pongal lover. The man came and handed me another casserole comprising an Omelet, seven French fries and exactly seven baked peas! The bread slices, butter chiplet and jam were wonderful—just a bit too tedious to spread—and I would have preferred them made ready to eat! After having a leisurely breakfast, I down another cup of coffee that was offered to me, oblivious what was happening inside the train, immersed in the world that was zooming past me at 110 kmph, give or take a few kms.

We crossed our pairing train—2028 SBC MAS Shatabdi—a rather poor cousin in ICF coaches, at Ambur at around 0813 hrs. We hit the brakes rather hard entering Jolarpettai (JTJ) and crossed the platforms at 0835, crossing the UBL MAS Exp and the TVC MAS Superfast. This meant that we covered the 84 kms from KPD in about 60 minutes, and the 214 kms from MAS in about 155! We then changed points and crossed over to the tracks that would lead us into a new zone, a zone which, according to the LP of the day, has upgraded the entire distance from JTJ to SBC to 110 kmph. I must say I was rather surprised by this news, as I had always thought that the JTJ SBC track was cleared for only 100 kmph! I ran to the door to soak in the rather cloudy atmosphere on the massive curve, and I was not disappointed at all. One of the two trains we crossed at JTJ should have left by this time, and we were treated to a double delight. The Lalbagh Exp, with a JS AC CC, crossed us right on the curve!

The LPs did not relent; neither did the stray caution orders dampen our mood. We hit the Pachur Mulanur ghat section a bit subdued, and exited the section honking furiously. I did not note the time, but just after Bangarpet (BWT) we crossed the MAS Exp. We were at mps right after BWT and just slowed down for the cautions. We crossed the Suvarna Ratha rake stabled at WFD close to mps, and hit SBC at 1028 hrs, 22 mts before time! We had covered the 362 kms in about 268 minutes!

The loco change ritual progressed at a leisurely speed, given the fact that we had ample time—32 mts against the scheduled 10, with the staff struggling a bit on the new kind of couplers for them and the loco 20068 of KJM. I made a few calls to our SBC fellow-railfans and got into the coach as the starter turned amber. We left at 1101, and made our way across the points. The mps was 100 between SBC and MYS and there were seven caution orders, one more than the number on the MAS SBC section. After a few minutes, we got a watery tomato soup, and then the flop of the day, the lunch. A very small portion of veg biriyani and a smaller portion of curd rice was the menu—even the most filled baby would find the portions rather too small, leave alone a hulk of 80+ kilograms! I received call from Pawan Koppa informing that they were on the Tippu / Siddhaganga Exp bound for SBC, and would call again as they halted for our crossing. I received the call just in time—as we picked up speed exiting a caution order just about a km before Maddur. I ran to the door, and was surprised to see our train touch close to mps in such a short stretch.

I saw Shishir taking pics of our train and had started the waving ritual well before we entered the platform. Pawan was looking out for me, and what a wave it was! The wave came in waves—trust me, there is nothing like waving out to a fellow railfan when traveling close to mps. We crossed an unknown Express at Yeliyur and then made our way to MYS, which we reached at 1313, three minutes late.

2009-07-11T20:58:00.000+05:30

GOING GREEN - ABOUT THE RAKE

The rake was shining bright, the early morning sun reflecting off the sun drenched stainless steel shell. There was no paint, and the only colour was the blue strip that ran across the length of the coach. The vertical yellow stripes at the end of the coaches were there to indicate that this was CBC stock. The interiors were well designed and the capacity in the CC was 78. The first and the last rows had a 2 x 2 configuration, and the rest had the usual 3 x 2 configuration. It was a JS type seating, where one half of the seats were laid out facing the other half.

There were only 3 toilets per coach, the space for the fourth taken by the rather elaborate pantry area. The coaches contained indicators as to which toilets were engaged, and were working—after all, these are early days, ain’t they? The toilets themselves were modular and of the controlled discharge type, as informed by an official on board. The interiors were squeaky clean, and the soap dispensers actually contained liquid soap! There was a mug too, placed without the mandatory chain that tries to keep it safe! The toilet was smaller, or at lest seemed so, with wide full wall mirror above the wash basin. A person like Ranga, Mark1 would find it rather difficult to enter and exit, as I too found out! You need not hold the tap pressed—just press and leave it—the tap would retract itself in the few seconds you need to wash. The

There were no covers for the head-rests on the seats, which meant that the dandruff, liberal doses of coconut oil and the like would get transferred from person to person! The officials informed that the covers would be ready—surprising that the rake was idling close to a month and a half and no action was taken towards getting this done. The biggest problem was the lack of a wash basin at either ends of the coach. It is seldom noticed during the day, but right after dinner in the evening, the long queues near the toilets said it all—it was a goof-up of sorts not to make a provision for a wash basin at either ends of the coach.

The last coach has the vestibule connected to the brake van and the generator car. The guard’s cabin can be accessed by sliding open the vestibule door—both guards I approached were only too eager to have us in to pour out their woes of the cabin design. The ALP of 2007 also informed me that it is likely that 2007/8 will be allowed 120 kmph shortly on the MAS JTJ section.

The next part containing the outward journey from MAS to SBC follows……

2009-06-29T20:26:00.000+05:30

MISSING RAJARAM, AGAIN

It seems just yesterday that Rajaram was off to Muscat to begin a new career. I was very happy for him—I still am—though I was beginning to miss him from Day 1. Eighteenth June 2009 was another such day. Having gotten his family accommodation from his employers, he was leaving for Muscat taking his family with him. We were all there at the airport to see him off, and the “just yesterday” scenes were repeated, only in greater intensity.

I woke up on the morning of 18th June, hoping that it was not 18th at all. I would have been happy if time had stopped on 17th of June for perpetuity. That way, Rajaram would not be leaving Chennai, and I could have my cake and eat it too! But time never stops, and I was facing the harsh reality of sending off Rajaram in a few hours’ time.

The day itself was hectic. Office from 0600 to 1000 hrs, back home for a quick lunch and then hopping on to the van that carried us all to the airport. Tired I was, but the physical part of it was not a patch on what was going through my insides. Earlier that morning, as I was on a call to Rajaram on the mobile, I had to choose a secluded corner of my office, lest I betray my emotions.

We were cracking jokes, pulling Rajaram’s legs now, then his daughter’s and my daughter’s. All the leg-pulling is only a blur in my mind. Only I could understand what was going on, and putting up a façade of composure was not very easy.

After the check-in and the customary few minutes’ chat from across the barriers at the airport, an employee of Oman Air came in to remind Rajaram that it was time to get the security done and board the aircraft. I took Rajaram aside, and was the target of a joke from my daughter Sweta later. She reportedly told my wife: “Look, appa’s face is turning into a Niagara.” Not far from the truth, I found it extremely difficult to control myself—the separation will continue to pain.

Thank God for small mercies like Gmail, Gtalk, Mobile phones etc. We can still keep in touch easily and consistently. That could be one reason why I let him go in the first place 

If being away from home makes you homesick, read on. Keeping with times of the pandemic that has left so many fearing for their lives, being away from the lovable swine called Rajaram has made me swine-sick. When the lovable swine comes back in about 70 days for the Madras quiz, I will still be swine-sick—for, aren’t you seasick when at sea!

I am already looking forward to mid-August, and I must at least make pretence of keeping up the trust he has reposed in me. He has asked me to prepare well for the Madras Quiz, and I shall try my best. If he does not make it for Landmark, I am not sure what decision I take. Participate and dedicate to Rajaram whatever points we get or skip the event—I can’t dread to be on THAT quiz without Rajaram. If you are reading this, Rajaram, please tell me how it was when you took the ToO quiz back in Muscat.

2009-05-25T20:51:00.000+05:30

PONGAL — OH! PONGAL

On a rather cool December evening, in the Tamil month of Karthikai, I exited my house with the intent of having a cup of tea at a tea shop. Bang opposite the tea shop is the Ayyappan Temple — the most happening place as hordes of devotees throng the place to wear the ‘mala,’ the beads to herald the period of penance before they undertake an arduous pilgrimage to Sabarimala, the hilly abode of Lord Ayyappa.

It was an evening as usual, except for the fact that a long queue had formed near the northern gate of the temple. This gate is usually closed — open only when prasad is distributed, so that devotees can form a line, partake of the prasad offered in leaf plates and leave the temple. I espied from the corner of my eye to find out what was on offer. It could have been anything like curd rice, puliotharai, sweet pongal, sundal and so on. Not being able to sight anything, I crossed the road to the other side and without even a pretence of embarrassment, peered into a devotee’s leaf plate, only to find ambrosia in his hands. I immediately rushed into the temple, said a cursory prayer, hands acting out the folded posture, more eager to open out to hold the leaf plate. I joined the rather small queue, but only after making an offering into the temple hundi.

My turn came in about a couple of minutes. Going by the crowd, the prasad still left was large in quantity. The persons in charge of the distribution forced two leaf plates — one in each hand of the devotees. They dished out two generous dollops of the prasad into each leaf plate. I was happy, not that my prayers had paid off; not that the offering made in the temple was worth its last paisa; but because what I rather gingerly held in my hands was a ghee dripping, well cooked and great looking ambrosia.

It was a struggle to reach the hundred odd metres home from the temple and set the leaves on the dining table. The entire house erupted in jeers at my act and my narration of the act. They chided me for being so mean as to walk in to a temple and make an offering just because I liked what was on offer. I had shed any pretence of being embarrassed in front of others, and what was there to feel ashamed of in front of my own? I settled down to the table with a spoon and enjoyed every morsel of the wonderful ambrosia.

Well, what was that in the plate? It was Pongal, called the Venn Pongal, and it was not the sweet variety. That is heavenly any time of the day. The first enquiry as the waiter approaches my table is ‘Pongal’? at any time of the day. Some react with shock, some say it only available in the mornings for breakfast, and some blurt out the scripted line: ‘Poori, dosai, masala, rava dosai, uthappam, parotta, chappathi . .’

It was really one of the best Pongals I have ever tasted in my life. Later that evening, my friend Rajaram also confirmed this. Slippery with loads of ghee, the right taste of salt and all other ingredients, the Pongal just slithered down the tongue into our insides. It was rather difficult to savour the taste slowly, and that explains the rather large quantity that I had to myself that evening. The smooth journey of the Pongal was, every now and then, broken by the presence of rightly fried cashew nuts. This only added to the heavenly taste.

Tamil Nadu has a lot of Pongal fans. Most of the Chennai based members of IRFCA are Pongal fans too; so is my closest friend Rajaram. In fact, most of our Chennai IRFCA meetings are called Pongal vadai meetings if held in the mornings. We make it a point to assemble and talk over a plate of Pongal and vadai at the VLR stall at Chennai Egmore. Another close friend who I can never forget, more so in the context of Pongal is Simon, working with Southern Railways, now at Chennai Central. We both quip to our friends that, given a choice, even at midnight, we would always look out for Pongal to satiate our hunger!

For the uninitiated, Pongal is a dish prepared from rice and moong dal, both boiled together with that wee bit of extra water to make it ultra soft like a very solid paste. It is garnished with curry leaves, whole black pepper, cumin seeds, grated ginger and cashewnuts — all fried in ghee. Some prefer mixing all the ingredients into a cooker and pressure cooking it. Others cook the moong dal and rice and then add the cooked mixture into a kadai that contains the garnishing and mixing them up.

Whichever way, Pongal is best with a spicy coconut chutney, sambar or gothsu. The recipe for Pongal and its accompaniments is available here.

There is also a sweet version of Pongal, called the Chakkarai Pongal. Chakkarai is Tamil for sugar, though chakkarai Pongal is made from jaggery or vellam, also known as gur in the northern parts of India. Arun, if you are reading this, can you recollect the name of the restaurant where we dined in Bengalaru, a few years ago? It was a restaurant at the far end of MG Road, in a tall building. That was the best chakkarai Pongal I have ever tasted in my life!

2008-11-28T22:21:00.000+05:30

A Chalukyan Baraat

Dabbas of besan laddoos, moong flour laddoos, crispy masala poha, chaklis – Karnataka style, murukkus – Tamilnadu style and an assorted mélange of around 50 people occupied what seemed to be their own space on the FN1 coach – that last coach of the 6010 MAS CSTM Mail on a very sultry night in May 1992. Well, the ruse for this gang was to travel to the wedding of one Sridhar Joshi, which was to be solemnized on 5 May 1992 at a small town called Bagalkot – some 800 kilometres away.

An affair that began in July 1989 was to culminate in a wedding – in about 57 hours from the departure of the train. On board were an assortment of relatives – many of whom were employed with the railways – and had their own FC free passes – that meant the entire FC half of the coach with 10 berths (4+4+2) was their own. The children of a lesser GOD – the other section of 32 SL berths also had around 40 people – again all were either friends or relatives of the ‘hero’ – who was to have his two minutes of fame later.

The coach itself was an old one – incandescent bulbs threw a bit of light both in FC and SL sections, and only brightened as the train picked up speed. The number, I recollect, began with 6xxx. The advent of the Air braked stock was just happening, and this was one train from SR that was almost the last set to be air-braked (Well, I am also following the ‘Language in evolution’ on irfca-derailed). That meant, during that time an assortment of coach number – appendages painted with a ‘/’ after the actual number. X meant that the train was on newer 110V lighting, Y meant it was the older 24V with incandescent bulbs; A was air-braked stock. So you had xxxx/A-X, etc. painted.

All the close relatives had arrived - some from Hubli, some from Bijapur and many from other places in Karnataka. They had come all the way for the pre-wedding rituals, and would leave with us to Bagalkot for the wedding.

There was a small twist to the tale – a couple of office friends joined in at the last minute and we needed unreserved open tickets for them. The queues at the counters were too long, and train was only a few minutes from departure. In spite of protests from the huge milling queues at the counters, I located a friend working a counter, and bought the tickets in a jiffy.

The train would have been probably headed by a WAM4 – little would I know the loco classification then – even IRFCA was learning to walk with a few legs, as against the six thousand odd pairs that support it now. We left at 22.20 hrs sharp, which was the then departure time, and slowly made our way through the maze of points and crossings and picked up speed only after we passed Veysarpadi (VPY). Our first halt was at Tiruvallur (TRL), where we spent about a minute and a half. Then on to Arakkonam (AJJ), we spent around 5 minutes. All the way, the compartment was a gaggle of voices, laughter and healthy leg-pulling – I was the main target, being the ‘hero’. Most of the group went off to sleep, exception being a few youngsters, and that included the Electrical Engineer on IRFCA now – Gopalakrishna Kadni. Whenever we meet, it is always trains – and it has been like that even before IRFCA was born – and that night was no different. We were wide awake till we reached Renigunta (RU), before we had a cup of tea and went off to sleep. We were absolutely unaware of what happened after that, and woke up as we neared Rayalacheruvu (RLO), a few kilometers before Gooty (GY) at about 0700 hrs. Most of our gang was still asleep, and as we finished the morning chores, the reality hit us. Being the last coach, even behind the SLR meant that we could not get a cup of tea at small stations, where the coaches were out of the platforms. We really rued that we could not get up and be ready before Kondapuram – we would have had the time to get a tea at the watering station. However, we would soon pull into GY at about 0840 hrs, for a scheduled 5 minute but an actual 10-15 minute halt for a loco change. That gave us the time to haul a chaiwallah into our coach, and start counting the cups. By the time the last person had been served a cup, the first was ready for his second! The loco change over, we soon hit the mainline again at a very good speed, and thanks to the slack, were into Guntakal (GTL) at about 0825, around five minutes before time.

We unloaded ourselves and the hordes of luggage onto the fag end of the platform, by which time the coach had been uncoupled from the formation and the starter was cleared for the mail to continue its halting journey to BBVT. We trudged along the trolley path with our luggage and hit what I now recall as PF5, the MG platform. We spread our wares on the platform, and the dabbas begin opening one by one. Masala poha, chakli and besan laddoos were served on paper plates and handed over to the gang. We took turns filling up water containers – the days of mineral water had not yet dawned then. At around 0925, the shrill tone of a steam loco perked us up, and it was clear that a train was being backed up from the yard. This was the Chalukya Fast Passenger from GTL to Bijapur (BJP), with a scheduled departure of 1000 hrs at GTL and arrival of 1800 at Bagalkot (BGK) and around 2130 at BJP. We rushed into a coach and placed all our luggage and then allowed the ladies in and settled down into our seats. The entire train was unreserved, and I think we were in the penultimate coach – Gopal should correct me if I am wrong.

We left at 1000 hrs to the shrill whistle of the steam loco – must have been a YP – maybe John Lacey or Prof Siva could correct me, as I am not aware of the holdings of the GTL steam shed. We stopped at many stations, skipping a few – this was after all a Fast Passenger. We skipped GTL North, Virapur and stopped at Daroji for watering. The parallel BG line shimmered in the bright late morning sun, and the heat was already searing. We had a plate of Kanda bajji at Daroji, and we were on our way without tea. We then stopped at some stations, but the one I remember was Bellary (BAY). After Bellary we stopped at Bellary Cant, and made our way through stations like Kudatini, Pappinaikanahalli, etc., though I may have got these names mixed up. We also stopped at Tornagallu (TNGL), the origin of scores of iron ore rakes headed to Madras Harbour (HOM) for disgorging the iron ore into the huge bowels of ships for export to Japan and China.

Between BAY and Hospet (HPT) we had our lunch comprising of idlis, puliyodarai and curd rice, packed the previous evening from home. The packets were devoured as fast as they were unpacked. We filled and refilled water at HPT – the loco did the same, and a fresh crew took over. We left HPT and ran across the Tungabhadra, parallel to the dam, and crossed over to Munirabad town for another brief halt. Post Munirabad, we stopped at Koppal. We then made our way through small stations, stopping at what seemed important to the time tablers but insignificant for us – the big city brash bunch. The locals from Hubli were explaining the importance of the halts, and even they sneered at a halt or two.

The stunning experience of the trip was at Bhanapur. As we waited for a crossing, we were on the PF line. Locals descended on the train with pots, and started selling buttermilk – freshly made at their rustic homes, with a sprinking of rock salt. The buttermilk tasted wonderful in the mid-afternoon rural heat of Karnataka, and we would have easily downed at least two glasses each. I do not remember how much we paid, but it must have been around two rupees for a glass. We then retreated into the shade of the coach as we started to leave, and the long journey continued. We hit Gadag (GDG) at around 1500 hrs and I ran to where the Vada stall would have been. The disappointment was palpable, as the fellow had closed for the afternoon, and would come in only at around 1645-1700 hrs for the evening round. I am not sure we had a loco change from steam to steam, but left GDG far earlier that our usual halts there – probably because we did not need a reversal.

We took the track to the right side as we faced Hubli, and swerved a huge right curve about a couple of kms after GDG. The one the right would go to UBL. As we went to the right, we were accompanied by swathes of arid black soil. This was, if not the heart of the drought prone areas of Karnataka, pretty close to it. We then stopped at all stations, I presume. Hombal, Balaganur and Mallapur had nothing to write home, except an SM cabin, a lever cabin situated bang in the middle of the platform at an elevation, a counter from where the SM issued tickets and if lucky, a closed tea stall. Maybe a water tap or two that was dry and hot!

After Mallapur, we hit Hole Alur (HLAR) – another watering station, and home to wonderful kanda bajjis, cool buttermilk and a rather decent tasting tea. The entire gang feasted on the stuff before we left, and the stall owner would have probably had his largest single bill of his lifetime that day, like many others at preceding stations.

We quickly crossed the river bridge and stopped briefly at Jakanur. As we left Jakanur, the wrangle for the doors began. Many did not know what it was for – I have always loved to see the wonderful left curve on a high gradient – seeing the tracks wide to our left well before we actually hit them, and head off behind a small hill into Lakhmapur. I took in the entire route and none the less sated – I longed to come back for more – in fact, I still do!

A halt, what I now recall as Yeragoppa was skipped, and we headed into Badami – the railhead for the famous Banashankari temple and the Chalukyan heritage sites of Aihole and Pattadkal. A brief halt later, we stopped at Guledagudda Road, and then made our way across the longest block of the day – to BGK. As we hit BGK at 1800, it was my time to be embarrassed – embarrassed by the reception. I was garlanded, a band accompanied the gang that had come to receive us and was belting out instrumentation of the latest Hindi and Kannada hits. I was far too embarrassed to be the centre of all attraction, but that is the way the cookie crumbles in this part of the world.

That was a report of what I remember of my trip to my wedding – Gopal will surely correct me wherever I have gone wrong. I will not detail the return by the SUR UBL passenger’s slip coaches to SBC and thence to MAS, and understandably so, even though we traveled SL class!

And, finally a big thanx to Shanx, whose Shaadi ke Laddoo inspired me to try this out!

2008-11-09T16:34:00.000+05:30

DUST AND DELICACIES

A very hot day of May dawned and the searing heat broke through the asbestos roof of the bedroom at Bijapur. The hall and the kitchen were that much cooler which explained the presence of almost everybody at home in those two rooms. We gave breakfast a skip, had an early lunch at 1000 hrs, waiting eagerly for the eventual to happen.

The tonga arrived in front of the house and we were off to the Railway Station. We passed close to half-a-dozen monuments – all of them under ASI – Bijapur (BJP) is as much a historian’s delight as it is a tourist’s. The last one we passed was the Gol Gumbaz – the magnificient whispering gallery cool as a cucumber on the inside and simmering bright domes on the outside. As we took the road alongside the ROB and veered left to enter the station road, we were really excited.

Somebody bought us one full and two half tickets on exchange of a PTO (Privilege Ticket Order – where the full fare was only one-third of the coaching tariff and the half fare was one-sixth) for just Rs.5 in total. We walked to the board outside the SMs room and saw that our train was about 10 mts late! Milling crowds, chaiwallahs and hordes of vendors selling a dozen other things were the sights of the day. There was also the usual quota of beggars and stray dogs, crows and sparrows, and a couple of cows and a calf.

Just about fifteen minutes to the arrival of the train, the station porter or the signalman ventured out to ring a bell – a bell that would indicate that the train had been cleared to leave the previous station – Minchnal in this case. We would hurriedly check our entire luggage, and all our relatives – yes, there were at least a dozen to send us three out of BJP. One of the seniors would tell us to remain patient; there were at least 10 mts for the train.

Eventually the train was sighted, and as it passed the home signal, the dozen relatives would head off standing one or two to coach to hunt seat for us. The train was usually crowded, and getting a butt on was very difficult. Somehow, we always managed to get two seats for three people, and even managed a window seat within the next 50 kms or so. The train, drawn by steam would hang around for about 10 minutes for watering. The rather languid pointsman would trot to the loco and hand over the token – remember, until recently this was the authority to start a train in the absence of any kind of starter signals. Entry into a station was controlled by a home signal, there were a few gate signals as well. The token in hand meant that the train had the block up to the next station’s home signal for itself.

Tearful farewells with people running alongside the trains to see their beloveds off were routine, particularly with the rustic people. The train crossed over into the mainline, chugging along, letting steam. We picked up speed and traveled at a rather high speed of what I now perceive as around 60 kmph, slowing down on gradients when the engine strained its every sinew to pull the rather overweight rake of about 9 coaches – all MG GS.

After a stop start at Jumnal, the first station towards UBL (Hubli), we crossed a girder bridge laid over a nullah called Honagana Halla – the next halt station was Honaganahalli. Ibrahimpur is a relatively new halt station between BJP and Jumnal, and rather surprisingly for its name, is home to a locally famous Venkateswara temple. Then a slew of stations passed us – though not in the same order – Wandal, Benal, Basavana Bagewadi Road. The last one was earlier known as Telgi, and has the rather attractive code BSRX, probably since BSR was allocated to Vasai Road, earlier known as Bassein Road.

The train itself was rather cacophonous – babies crying their hearts out, kids bawling all over the place, running around (?) in tiny nooks and corners stepping on feet, the adults, mostly rustic, discussing all things about all their friends and relatives like a news broadcast – it was one fun mela all the way. What added to the fun was the vendors criss crossing the coach, jumping between coaches selling ‘delicacies’ that we yearned for – I am reproducing some here: limbihuli – a sour sweet that reportedly kept nausea at bay and came in a variety of colours, pedhas – three for four annas, shenga – peanuts roasted and dry bhel, alle pak (pronounced allay paak) – a ginger and gud confectionery that promised to keep cold, coughs, nausea and a hundred other illnesses away! Also on the list was cheap imitation packaged Glucose Biscuits, Parry’s chocolates, toffees etc. We used to try to wangle a few annas – about eight or twelve annas from our mother from the collection we made at various relatives’ during our stint, to savour these delicacies. Mom would always ignore our requests for a while promising the very famous kanda bhajis at BSRX.

BSRX was a watering station, and the kanda bhajis were hot and spicy, and it was watering time for us too. We would down a bronze jug of water and run to the nearest tap to get our fill. As the LP got the token, the whistle would go off, and so would the train over stations like Almatti, Sitimani and Kadlimatti before we hit our next major town called Bagalkot (BGK). Sitimani no longer exists, having given way for the Krishna project, and in its place has come Kudalasangama Road. Sitimani, situated on the banks of the Krishna was famous for the hordes of people performing the rites for the departed ancestors. In fact, even my grandfather used to visit Sitimani to perform the annual shradhdha of his ancestors.

Bagalkot was a mixed bag. A fairly large station serving a fairly large town, it was almost like BJP. It even had a retiring room like BJP. We would usually arrive at around 1420 and leave at 1430. Little would I realize that in a decade and a half, my love affair with a girl from this town would bring me here very often. It is another matter that we are now happily married for 17 years now! After a fairly long run – the next block was distant, we would halt at Guledagudda Road, then another halt station and then on to Badami. Badami is the railhead for the famous Banashankari temple and the monuments of Aihole and Pattadkal. Badami was treat like a poor cousin of BJP and BGK – the train halted only for five minutes here. As we left Badami, we would stop a few seconds at another halt station and then onto Lakhmapur.

Lakhmapur was a brief halt of about 2 minutes. As we exited the station on the straight for about ½ km we encountered a hill which was cut through to pave our path. As we exited the path we took a sharp curve around the hill. Down below about two kms away to our right, we could see the the next halt station Jakanur. The track would its way curving left around a hill, and the Jakanur station played hide and seek with us. As we finally landed on level ground – after saving on fuel since the down gradient would mean a few kms of coasting, we were braking hard to stop at Jakanur. Jakanur done with, we crossed the river Malaprabha (?) on a half-girdered bridge. The river separated Jakanur from its neighbouring relatively large town Hole Alur (HLAR). HLAR was again a watering station and a crossing station too. The UBL SUR (Solapur) Pass would cross us here, and right from Lakhmapur, we would hope to reach HLAR first to take the PF line. The train arriving second was put on the loop, with no platform. The Lakhmapur – HLAR section was undoubtedly for me the crème de la crème of the UBL SURM MG line.

The rather longish halt at HLAR ensured that we could have another round of kanda bhajis, and wash it down with a not-so-thick, but very tasty glass of buttermilk. Majjige, as it is called there, was slightly spiced with a bit of ginger, hing, and splattered mustard, and went down very well after the kanda bhajis. My mom used to shout from the window not to venture too far, but there I was, at the stall taking my own time to get the glasses of buttermilk. This leisurely activity was, of course, in the smug belief that the crew were inside the VLR downing bhajis and buttermilk, and for the train to leave, they would have to pass me!

The next stations that we crossed, though not in the same order were Mallapur, Balaganur and Hombal. The stations had a halt of about a minute or two each, and as we passed Hole Alur, the familiar black soil – bone dry and raising dust welcomed us. As we neared the only junction on this route, we were sweeping to our left as another pair of tracks joined us from the right. We would ride the track to the left for a fair distance of about 1.5 kms and come to a screeching halt at GADAG – probably one of the few palindrome stations on IR! The halt at Gadag, which we reached around 1710 was a leisurely 20 minutes, though the TTs reckoned it should have been 10. The hot – just off the oil medu vadas in dried leaf cups liberally bathed with spicy coconut chutney was a sure winner, even in the hot climate of May. Mom, my sister and I usually had 2 vadas each – the cost would be not more than Rs.5/- including three cups of tea.

As we were downing the vadas and the tea, the staff worked leisurely and attached a loco to the other end – this was a reversal station. The train usually left around 1730-1740, and we would retrace the way we had come in to Gadag, albeit on the other track. The track on our right was the one that would shortly divorce us on its way to SURM, and we would be off on the next series of stations, with about 60 kms to go to UBL.

Binkadkatti Halt, Hulkoti, Navalgund Road were the next three stations. After these brief halts, it was time for a slightly longer halt at Annigeri, this was a station that saw some express trains stop. Leaving Annigeri, we again halted briefly at Sisvinahalli H, Hebsur and Kusugal. Kusugal, I have heard somewhere was the first station on IR to use solar panels to light the signal lamps of the home signals on either side of the station.

Leaving Kusugal behind, we made a straight way for some time and then banked sharply to the right, past the Anjaneya temple that all crew say a silent prayer to when they cross this part. We invariably were stopped at the distant home signal that heralded our entry into the SBC MRJ mainline for a minute or two, then made our way to the ‘real’ home signal and were received on PF3 or PF4 at UBL at around 1925, well before the scheduled arrival of 1945 or 1950!

That was an account of whatever I could remember of the scores of bi annual trips made on this line from 1967, when I was a one year old to around 1992, when it retained the charm of MG and steam. That my wife is also from this area, and the courtship of around 5 years before our marriage meant more trips was a huge bonus from me. I may have gotten the station names mixed up, but I believe the essence of the trip is captured.

And, finally, what better time to post this trip report than now – as the new BG line is ready and waiting to herald a new era in what must be one of the most drought prone and dry areas of northern Karnataka. Though the charm of MG and steam will be missing, I still yearn for a trip on BG – especially another ‘up-down’ on the Hole Alur – Lakhmapur section!

Hope you enjoyed the nostalgia!

2008-08-03T21:55:00.000+05:30

OH – FOR A BREAK!

I have put myself in a rather piquant situation – and I am now waiting for the day that I will tide over the situation. Well, it is just about a day off for rest!

The workweek from Monday to Friday is something normal that I am used to – even the long hours not so frequently. That is not a problem. The issue is the weekends. I have joined a course that costs me a bomb – but a very good one at that; one that will be a value addition given my language and writing skills in English. I am putting my modesty on the line in claiming to be slightly better than average in my English writing.

It is this course – on weekends from 0930 to 1800 hrs that is putting all the pressure on me. No weekends – even a class missed is about a grand down the drain. I am determined to make these few weeks of classes count; thankfully there are, as of today, two less weekends to handle.

At the end of it all, I am not sure I will be one of the greatest writers English has ever found. I am not sure I will be one of the greatest English communicators that an IT company ever found. I am not sure this course, which I paid king’s ransom for completing, will pay me back handsomely as a money-spinner. I am sure, though, about one thing. I will take a Friday off, make it a three day weekend, and let my hair down the way only I can – a rail trip!

So, members of IRFCA, keep your eyes and ears open. You might just find a chance to be on the same train as the not so greatest English communicator!

2008-08-02T22:56:00.001+05:30

HOME SWEET HOME

It is upto the family that lives in the house to make it a home. I am sure that the house I owned – a small one compared to that Antilla of the elder Ambani - was never short of mirth, joy, happiness, and all the basic things in life. Squabbles did happen – sometimes shouting bouts among the family members, but nothing that needed the intervention of Amar Singhs and the Manmohan Singhs. We squabbled for a quiet corner to study, a noisy television, to put out the lights when asleep and the like. Never over property, companies and such trivia!

The air was thick with expectation when we shifted recently. The single bedroom flat was getting a little too small for our liking – as a family we were outgrowing the flat. With prices on the zoom, the only alternative was to take a larger house on rent. Brokers came and went, so did my wife’s legs on her interminable search for larger houses. Not to forget the telephone bill – every visit of a prospective house had increment the telephone meter by at least half-a-dozen telephone calls! Finally, the wife found the right house, and the shift happened on July 26 2008. The customary milk-boiling was performed on the morning of July 24 2008.

The house itself currently fits what we want – and hopefully will continue to do so. We cannot grow any bigger in terms of adding children of our own. That job I leave it to my daughters, and their periodic visits will not be a huge burden on stats of number of people per square foot in our house.

Teething problems apart like small matter like telephone shifting, setting up the computer and the broadband, initial hiccups in water supply etc., we seem to have settled down nicely. All that remains is to get a decent tenant for the my Antilla - even that seems nearer now.

Finally, the house is set. I am sure my family will surely make any place called a house a home – they are great to live with. Thanks to my family for my small Antilla.

2008-05-19T22:50:00.000+05:30

GARUDA PURANA – SOUTHERN RAILWAY STYLE

If you have ever had the fortune to watch Anniyan, as the split personality in the hero Vikram metes out treatment to corrupt people in the style of Garuda Purana, you will feel these methods too inhuman and outdated in these days of human rights. Just buy a confirmed reserved ticket for him by the Brindavan Express, and leave him to the mercy of Southern Railway. If you have done this trip, you will wish even your worst enemy well!

It only seems Southern Railway has taken upon itself to mete out such punishment to selective unfortunate people. These people, in Southern Railway’s dictionary masquerade as genuine passengers of Brindavan Express – once the showpiece of the South!

Passengers who have booked weeks in advance are forced to share space with hundreds of unreserved passengers. The latter use up all available space to the last inch – the doors, gangways, vestibules, the space near the toilets and the wash basins. They even come in between passengers sitting in opposite rows, if the seating layout permits. Mumbai locals can now take a bow – there is the Brindavan Express to stand shoulder to shoulder in rendering canine services to humans.

Added to these woes are the lepers, beggars and the vendors – not from the authorized Pantry Car. They weave their way around, treading on shoes and feet, glaring at anybody who dares to question them. After all, they have paid enough to the authorities to ply their trade, whereas we have paid only the real rail fare! The Pantry Car staff make a desultory visit every now and then – but carry only things that are light. That means, they do not bring water bottles. “Get it from the platforms, if you can”, was the rude answer of one Pantry Car vendor as more and more people demanded water bottles.

The only person who, it seems, was doing his duty that day was the TTE assigned to my coach. He came running at Arakkonam – I had boarded at Katpadi, asked for my ticket through the window from the platform, ticked it and handed it back. He also apologized for not being able to come in. “Sir, there is so much crowd that I cannot come from the inside. Sorry”, was what he said!

Except for one officer, there is not a soul who sympathises with the genuine passenger on this train – he will know it when he reads this piece. Others have far more important things to do – why care of lowly passengers of a lowly train that is Brindavan. There are only two people who can get a seat unchallenged on this train – the Loco Pilot and his Assistant – even they have to stand if an official deigns it fit to board the loco – on the pretence of an inspection – even if only for a comfortable seat and the best view on a train!

Numerous suggestions made to the authorities in the Southern Railway Headquarters have yielded results – they have only made them resolute in increasing the hardships faced by the passengers. They know they have killed the golden goose that lays the eggs – they are now intent on stripping its feathers to salvage the last nuggets, before the Brindavan Fast Passenger fades into oblivion. Thanks to SR for ensuring that, though.

2008-04-06T17:20:00.000+05:30

COMING SOON – BACHELORHOOD, PART 2

At precisely 0700 hrs on 16^th April, I will enter into a phase of life that I have earlier reluctantly experienced, and really looking forward to once again. Yes, my wife is leaving with our children for a well deserved trip to her mother’s – something that my mother used to do annually. For my wife though, a short and productive career meant that holidays were hard to come by, and whatever little we could manage to get together had to be reconciled with those of the kids and only fly-by visits were possible.

This is the first time in probably the last fifteen years that she is getting away so long from the family. The first time she did was in 1992 – and I was the reason then – she was away to deliver our first child. The second happened much nearer home – and now she is off on a sojourn almost a decade later. So, what does that mean to me?

It means a lot. My parents making my bed, mother cooking and a lot of other things. For me, it gives me a new found freedom – not having to think of the days that I turn up late after gazing at trains and locomotives, receiving friends from IRFCA, eating out and most importantly, not having to explain all my railfanning. Thinking of the stories about fellow railfans’ discomfiture with their families, I have been very lucky – though guilty, about not being able to spend as much time with my wife and family as they would like. Most importantly, that feeling of guilt will not dominate my mind for the three weekends.

I will be a real bachelor till 25^th April, when my parents will return from Hubli. Till such time, home will be in a mess – a bachelor’s pad. Food will also be in a mess – yes, one of the Indian style eating places where you get homely food. Surely, if you eat in a mess regularly, the home has to be in a mess. Wonderful word, indeed – that MESS!

During the weekends of bachelorhood, I have planned trips to Hubli, Erode and Trichy, Mangalore and Bangalore – three trips over three weekends. I am sure that Ranga will not let me down, and that KK will join us for the third trip. There sure will be many highlights of the three trips – Hubli will feature lots of WDP4 and WDG4 action, Erode and Trichy will be reverse of the trip described by Ranga here. The third will feature a night ride on the Subrahmanya – Sakleshpur ghat section on a train. The highlights will be on the web, courtesy blogs including this one, the yahoogroups mailing list of IRFCA and pictures will be on IRFCA itself.

After the last underwear of these trips has been washed and dried, it will be time to welcome my family back home. They are back on the 10^th May – and trust me, I am sure to start missing them from 19^th April itself. Just to buttress the loneliness that bachelorhood brings in its wake, particularly if you have had ‘it’ – I am going full blast at making the most of my twenty five day long bachelorhood! And, possibly, give my family a well deserved short break in the Independence Day weekend!

2008-01-11T21:27:00.001+05:30

MISSING RAJARAM

“Don’t take it to your heart”, were his words, as I espied a drop of tear in the corner of his eyes. Surely those words would have been a response to what he understood was going on inside me. I was surely on the edge, and the rather forlorn look on the faces of his wife and children held me back from openly pouring out my emotions.

It was the early morning of 8^th January 2008 at about 0550 hrs that I felt a part of me being yanked off on a flight to Muscat. That was where Rajaram (that hyperlink should be indicitave enough that he should now regularly update his blog!) was headed to – seeking a new career in a rather old field for him – Income Tax. Unarguably my closest friend – you could miss the second ‘s’ there, and that would still be right – for 25 years – come June 2008, his comments to my post Merci, Oriental have only rekindled the nostalgia – but at the wrong time. Our wives jokingly refer to themselves as our respective second wives – they think that we are the real Made for Each Other pair and they are right.

Our careers have been almost similar – both of us joined employment within a month of each other, and here we are now – both of us in a new employment within a month of each other again. Only this time, destiny has kept us a time zone away. Both of us are now pensioners at an age our parents would wince at the word called Pension. Both of us are blessed with families that know each other so well – and the space for our friendship has never been intruded. The only space intrusion that has happened is the one between Madras and Muscat.

I am not sure about his family or mine, but I have already started the countdown to 14^th August 2008 – that is when he will most likely come back to MAS for a holiday for those annual rituals called The Landmark Quiz, and the Madras Quiz – where we should be defending our title – and I am sure he remembers.

Lest I forget, I should also add that at last count, Rajaram owed me around 1733 minutes – minutes of waiting for him at Leo Coffee, Muththamizh, Perambur Reservation counter and all and sundry places around Chennai. I am willing to write off the 733 minutes as a perfect parting gift.

And, at the cost of holding out a threat to Rajaram, I am, God willing, only a couple of years away from landing at the doorstep of his residence in Muscat with my family, and walk into his open arms!

2007-12-25T22:37:00.000+05:30

MERCI, ORIENTAL

On the anniversary of the Tsunami of the 26^th December, a wave of emotion will sweep me on the evening of 26^th December 2007, as I bid goodbye to the Oriental Insurance Company Limited.

Yes, the Voluntary Retirement that I sought has been granted and I will be leaving Oriental at the close of office hours on 26^th December 2007. It will be a departure marked by poignant memories of my career in Oriental.

As I rewind to that balmy 9^th February morning of 1987, I can recall reporting for my first day, filling up forms and completing formalities in a PSU – a large Insurance Company. I was out to the stationery department, and shortly thereafter, I would come up to the main building to the Accounts Department.

The last twenty one years have passed with me number crunching – about a fortnight every month for the Payroll reports of Tamilnadu and initially, Cochin Regions – then only for the TN Region. I was also interested in having my hand in every pie our department baked – the Inter Office Accounts, Cash handling, analysis of accounts – I have seen them all. I have also been associated with twenty year end Audits, and have handled the Auditors and their queries to the best of my ability. I must, however, submit that my stint at the Internal Audit Department was not even to my satisfaction. Probably my heart lay elsewhere – read the Accounts Department, and I looked forward to my regular visits to assist my parent department.

I leave with a sense of satisfaction of having done my bit – a very small bit, though, in making up the sum total of what Oriental is today. I also leave with a sense of what if….. I am sure I could have done much better, only my laziness and circumstances, more of the former, which held me back.

I might have treaded on a lot of toes – to all those colleagues, wherever they are – my sincere apologies. It was unintentional and probably in the heat of the moment. A lot of people with whom I have worked have been instrumental in my contribution – and to them – my sincere gratitude. I cannot name them individually, but if they are reading, all those colleagues will know that they are part of this large group. I look forward to all your best wishes in shaping my future.

A word about my career. Neither blessed with intelligence or academic diligence, I chose what was best in 1987 – a career with a Government organization. We did not have the luxury of a booming economy then, and this was the choice of a rare few. Today, as the economy is booming, jobs are to be had for the teens, I look forward to a new career with hope. The elders might be aghast at my quitting a secure job – the youngsters look at me with awe when I say that I am twenty one years in one organization! In a way, we are those who have fallen between two stools – I am sure there are many comforting hands for me – should I fall.

Thanks again – for a wonderful time at Oriental, and looking forward to your continued best wishes.

May God bless Oriental and all of you and your families with all good things in life.

2007-12-09T11:59:00.000+05:30

C 2 C

Like Vinod Jairaj an active member of IRFCA always does, I too spent the night of 30th November 2007 sleepless, and I am sure that we are not the only two to lose sleep the night before a train journey. I was embarking on a journey to Mangalore, and in fact this was my first beyond Coimbatore in more than 25 years. I was to take the 6627 West Coast Express on the 1st of December with my family – wife and two daughters. My sleepless night had another reason – four of us were split down the middle by IRCTC – we were allotted two berths in B1 and two in B2.

My friend who is a TTE was supposed to help me out by speaking to the MAS based TTE of 6627 before the departure, but still…..sleepless went the night. On the marked day, as I arrived on PF1 of MAS, the West Coast was ready and beckoning my family. My friend was there before me, though he had the 2679 to CBE at 14.30 to work. He told me that the TTE of 6627 would help me out, but asked me if I could help myself. Giving him a quizzical look, I told him I could not figure out what he meant. He broke the ecstatic news – there was a cabin for four vacant in First Class (the non a/c FC that would be extinct in the next few years), and knowing me, he had asked the TTE to block the same for me. I shifted all the luggage to F1, Cabin H, extremely elated at what this journey had to offer me. After all my last FC travel was on my honeymoon – on the 10th May 1992 on 6201 SBC VSG MG Mail, on the 15th May 1992 on the 6202, and on the 17th May 1992 on the then 6007 SBC MAS Mail. I thanked the friend, and we informed the TTE of our consent, thanking him too. Simply imagine the huge space that we had for ourselves – the corridor itself was like this:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+008.jpg.html

At 1127 hrs, I set out for the bottle of water that we would need on a rather warm day. I returned with the bottle, ruing that I had no time to check out the loco. I casually asked the guard about the loco number, and he radioed the LP and informed that Gowri was to be in charge – yes, the loco was 22550 – the monster ED P4. We trotted out exactly at 1130, and rather slowly negotiated the points and hit the advance starter and BBQ home at proceed. We hit about 80 briefly, and slowed down to 30 to get from the loop into the main line at VPY. We did not pick up much speed beyond VPY – the Perambur Bridge girder was being replaced that night, and we were riding a caution of 20 kmph right at my doorstep. Passing Perambur, the LP notched up bigtime, and Gowri blasted past Gowrishankar’s hotspot at a cool 100-105 kph. Suburban stations came and went in a blur, and in no time we hit Tiruvallur. As we made into the main line from the fast line at 1210 hrs, we picked up speed and crossed TRL PF at 1212 hrs at about 80 kmph. We stopped at AJJ at 1235 and left at 1238 (12.28-12.30). A WAM4, coupled to another dead WAM4 was ready to leave AJJ, probably to MAS to work the numerous specials that leave MAS on Saturdays. The pair looked squeaky clean – probably they were just out of their fortnightly schedule at the AJJ Loco Shed:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+004.jpg.html

At km 91, exactly 90 minutes since we had left MAS, we crossed the 2680 Inter City from CBE, and from the coach I missed out the loco number. Shortly thereafter at 1315, a couple of kms before Walajah Road, the 2610 SBC MAS Express crossed us. We hit the loop line into WJR in a couple of minutes, and a very rare speed restriction board was sighted. SR has most of its trunk lines rated for 110 kmph, and the permanent speed restriction of 100 is a rarity – unlike in territory rated for 130, where the 30 kph could make a huge difference. This permanent Speed Restriction board is just before the loop entry into WJR and is of, course for the main line:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+006.jpg.html

Our timings at WJR were 1319-1320 (1258-1300), and I was really not worried about the delay – after we would have a slack large enough to absorb even an hour’s delay. Little would I know what was to transpire next – and I was partly right about the slack. We left WJR, and as we hit the main line, the remains of what was the first railway line in South India from Royapuram to Arcot were seen. The line still remains, and is being talked of being revived as part of a new line from Tindivanam to Nagari, but this is how the line diverts from the main line and looks like:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+009.jpg.html

We covered the next 25 kms to Katpadi in about 20 minutes, arrived at 1340 and left at 1345 (1320-1325). After a rather uneventful halt at KPD, we made our way out to join the main from the PF1 loop. I saw frenzied action into getting the OHE structures into shape for the scheduled inauguration a week down the line on 8th at Tirupathy. Laluji was to inaugurate the MAQ SBC train on 8th morning at MAQ and jet it to TPTY to inaugurate the TPTY KPD electrified section. The conversion of BG line towards Vellore was also under progress, with new signals laid out with a cross, indicating they were yet to be commissioned. The line slowly veered off towards our right, and, as we gathered speed, came right over us to cross us on a bridge. The few pictures that I have taken of this area have come out very badly shaken, and hence not uploaded.

The shock of the trip awaited, and most of us were not aware of it. We came to a grinding halt at KM 135, just at the home signal of Latteri. We would have waited for about 7 minutes, when from my 18th coach, I could make out some figure handing out some paper to the Loco Pilots. I thought that there was some signal problem, and a T369 was being issued to pass LTI home at danger. It was not to be, as subsequent events turned out. We slowly snaked into the loop, crossed over to the wrong line – the main line towards MAS, and made our way out of LTI. This was due to some engineering work on the correct Down Line between Latteri and the next station. This meant we could not top our speed beyond 25 kmph, as we were on the wrong line. An agonizing few kms later, we were passing Virinchipuram – on the loop – of all lines. We were already on the wrong line at a restricted speed, and I could not understand the logic of being taken on the loop of the wrong line, when the wrong main line was itself free. We joined the main line, again the wrong one, after doing the wrong loop at 15kmph. It was such a refreshing change to hit 25 again! We trotted again at about 25 till Kavanur, when we were again looped on the wrong line, joined the main wrong line, and changed over, at last to the right line – the down fast to JTJ. Here is a pic of the train on the wrong line – the line to the left is the down fast line that we should have been riding on:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+015.jpg.html

We arrived at JTJ at 1540 and left at 1542 (1440-1442), where a GTL WDM2 was idling, its road number 16601 showing off brightly in the sun. Tirupattur was done at 1557-1558 (1457-1458), and we later halted at Morappur and Bommidi before hitting Salem an hour and a quarter late. I had lost all patience due to the late running, and stopped noting exact timings. Being a week end, the train was extremely crowded – at least the three GS coaches and the SLR behind us were choc a bloc. Many people entered the SL coaches, and it was a hell of a job for the TTEs thereafter. They had to check all the people, issue EFTs to most of them – they were going to CBE. The discomfiture on the faces of TTEs showed – a couple of families even opting for 3A for that short ride. The TTEs had a wonderful handbook, which showed the differences, distance slab wise, to be collected from passengers who wished to travel in a higher class. This was brought out by some union. Ironically, this book did not contain upgrade to FC from any class, and the TTE had to do some hard calculation to collect the fare difference from me at MAS. He came back well past AJJ and issued the EFT for Rs.490/- (for three adults and one child, upgrading from 3A to FC from MAS to MAQ).

The catering contractor was woeful – the coffee was very turbid, and we rejected the same. It turned out be a result of making coffee with spoilt milk. The chapathi kurma and the VeG biriyani were at best insipid, and turned into severe dysentery inducers for my elder daughter the next day. We hit Erode at about 1915, as against the scheduled 1745, and I had already reached S10 through the vestibule to catch the loco change. 22550 was detached in a jiffy, and we were being piloted by WDM 3D 11112, for the remainder of the run. I came back to S10 as the starter was cleared, and then as I made my way through the vestibules, I picked up some idlis for my younger daughter. I also then understood the frenzy of the TTEs in issuing EFTs to the passengers – the DRM of the newly formed Salem Division had boarded the train at Salem, in fact, he footplated upto ED in the P4. At ED, he got into the 2A coach. I wanted to meet him, but he was taking a much deserved rest. All the staff members on the train were surprised at the simplicity of the man – he had even turned down bedrolls, saying they should not be short for fare paying passengers!

At CBE, which we hit at 2105, I got wonderful Dosas from the Neethu’s kitchen – a suggestion given by our TTE. I had to do the vestibuling upto S5, and pick up the Dosas, and rush back into S6, and vestibule my way back to the 18th coach. I saw only a solitary passenger getting off at Podanur, and waited at the door to have a look upto PGT. We hit PGT at about 2210 and left at 2215, an hour and 5 minutes late. After picking up the final two bottles of water for the night, I hit the sack, hoping the slack would then take over and we would make it to MAQ on time at 0500 hours. I got up in the middle of nowhere at night, and found us at Kannur at 0245, still about 50 minutes late. Hitting the bed again, I got up only as we were pulling into Nileshwar at 0330 – now only about half an hour late. After a couple of more halts, we crossed the Netravathi into Mangalore, parting away from the Konkan bypass and entered MAQ at 0535 – we had made up more than 40 minutes since CBE. As we entered I saw the MAQ MS express on PF1, with 11111 as the power. Coming in by 11112, and seeing 11111 leaving from an adjacent platform – the numbers game could not get better. Read on – there is an even bigger surprise at the end!

A hectic 55 hours then followed, journeying by a cab into the hinterland to various temples, and we were back at MAQ station from our lodge for the night of 3rd Dec – Poonja International. Towards the end of our trip, as we came back into MAQ on the evening of 3rd December, I caught this bridge – one that would see passenger action after inauguration on the 8th of Dec.:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+085.jpg.html

As we got off from the autorickshaw, I caught sight of this:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+119.jpg.html

The work of renaming Mangalore as Mangalore Central was very well complete, and now all that remained was to change the name boards, which looked very good at that time. Hope they remain as clean and bright for a long time to come.

IRCTC had again split us into two groups – two in B1 and two in B2. This time, we noticed some berths vacant in B2, and occupied 33-36, duly informing the TTE about our predicament. He readily agreed, and also confirmed that we could upgrade if some berths of the PQ from Kozhikkode were vacant. I quickly went off to see the loco, and caught it on my camera just a few metres before it could hit our buffer:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+124.jpg.html

The use of flash has probably resulted in the fluorescence of the road number showing prominently. As I was to experience later, the ED WDM 3D 11206 was great! On the shunting neck beyond the PF1, this clean looking GOC loco was ready to take work – waiting for the shunt signal:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+127.jpg.html

After snapping the GOC loco, I turned my attention to the shunting of 11206 to our train, and was surprised to see this:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+125.jpg.html

This was the result of the curve on which the PF2 at MAQ was situated. The loco was attached in this condition, and the shunter made sure to give a small tug both ways, just to ensure that the mating, er, screwing of the couplers was just as tight was required. I just switched off my camera and got into the coach at about 1310, waiting for the train to start, and also to check up with my wife if they required anything. As I sat near the window, the Matsyagandha was being readied and the B3 coach of the Matsyagandha was visible from our B2. This is how the B3 looks from the tinted glass of our B2:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+129.jpg.html

I could not settle down, and went about, camera in hand to snap some more. The Netravarhi cabin was my next victim. This is the place where the line SRR-MAQ line separates towards Kankanadi (now Mangalore Junction) :

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+137.jpg.html

As I came back to comfort of the AC coach, my eyes caught this LED board. This was the GPS enabled indicator. This board indicated the current time, the place of the next halt and the distance to the next halt. A very useful tool indeed, right in the middle of discussions on the mailing list about mid night wakes etc. This is how the board looked like:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+134.jpg.html

We were off at 1315, and were keeping steady pace, and were on time for most of the early run out of Mangalore. The stoppages were very brief – the first five minute stoppage for the train was not expected until Kannur and those before Kannur had only a two minute stoppage time. I was also waiting for the TTE to announce that we could upgrade to a bay in 2A at Kozhikkode, and hence was more eager than I would normally be. May daughters too were pestering me as to when we would reach Kozhikkode and upgrade to 2A. Then suddenly the train came to a halt – but amidst breathtaking scenes. The entire stretch from MAQ to CLT is alongside the Arabian Sea, with lots of openings in the coconut groves for backwaters, and the sea only disappears from your view if it is bored of your presence. It makes a reappearance after only a couple of kms again – reminding you to keep glued to the windows – after all, these sightings do not happen every day for children of lesser God like us. So we were there, stranded momentarily, at some desolate stretch, but a beautiful scene opening out on our right. We took in the beautiful scene as much as we could – and another surprise awaited me. As I moved from the door on the trackside with the sea view to the door on the right side, I just opened to see the signal aspect, I was struck with awe. There was a wave of mellifluous singing hitting me. Young girls were rehearsing or singing an orchestra of great Carnatic music in groups. Each passing second on the signal made me feel that we could wait here for eternity – such was the scene on the right with the seas gently backpatting the shores and the coconut groves; the strains of wonderful music from either the trained or trainee singers we wouldn’t know and I wouldn’t care too – making for a wonderful combination and soothing to both eyes and the ears. Suddenly, as if awoken from my slumber, the train moved slowly out and I found out it was at the home signal of a station called Trikkapur that we were being treated to!

We then halted at Kannur, delayed by about 20 minutes. At Kannur, I had my first taste of the Jack Fruit Bajji, albeit the sweetened form, what the locals call the Pazhappori or something similar. It was disappointingly cold and sweet. The batter used to make them was too thick I suppose, more like a dough, and the softness had given way to sogginess. The sweetness of the batter also didn’t help either. I was reminded of a Mohamed Ali, whose belly was swollen with Jack Fruit and hence led to a toilet being provided on trains. I wasn’t destined to be an innovator that day – the toilets were already there and I discarded the packet as soon as I had a bite. My wife too gave it a thumbs down, and my children did not venture anywhere near it.

On the trackside, meanwhile, a KJM loco headed Kannur YPR Express was ready to be moved to the PF. As we rolled out of Kannur, this is what the CAN-YPR train looked like – awaiting the signal or the shunt signal I would never know:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+166.jpg.html

As we left CAN, after this sighting, clearing points, I came across this very clear board embedded alongside the permanent way. This was the mandatory board for announcing the Fouling Point or Mark, but many stations do with painting them as FP or FM. Some just have these white boards. Most stations on this section have the entire text painted on them as “FOULING MARK”, and this is how it looks:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Uploads/Coast+to+Coast/Picture+167.jpg.html

As on the run to MAQ, we were waiting for another dignitary on the train. This time it was the Deputy Speaker of Pondicherry who was booked with his family in a cabin in First Class. This was the first reserved coach from the train engine and the second in front our our B2. The dignitaries boarded at Mahe, and without any fuss. After the next two stops, we hit CLT at about 1745. Nothing eventful happened at CLT except the large number of passengers that boarded the train in various compartments. I was now eagerly awaiting the TTE to confirm that PQ berths in CLT quota were vacant, and I could upgrade. No such thing happened for about 20 minutes after the train left. The TTE then came to me suo moto, and told me that though there were six berths, four of them were not available in a single bay – and most of them were only side upper and upper berths. He also told me that I could travel in 2A comfort for the price of 3A – the other two berths of six in our bay were vacant! I took this alternative, and like on the outward journey, we were all to ourselves on the return too – though in a different class.

The TTE had advised me to pick up my dinner from a stall at SRR, since the food at Palakkad would not be good enough and since he was HQ’d in PGT, I took his word. Right in front of our B2 coach was this privately operated stall that sold hot dosas, parathas chapathis with chutney, sambar and optional veg curry for six bucks. For about 30 rupees, I was able to pick up enough for all four of us. I handed over the packet to my wife, and rushed to see the loco change. Imagine my surprise when I found the loco being attached – it was again another P4 from ED – this time 22660. Even CLW could not have managed the feat I had. I had made the 22660 work exactly 72 hours after the 22550!

I later had the meal and did some station watching upto PGT. As we left PGT, I hit the sack and had sleep in phases – sometimes deep and sometimes not so sound. I had intended to get up at ED to catch some late night action, but when I woke up, I found myself in very familiar territory – it was AJJ at 0420. We left AJJ with me at the door, waiting for AVD to wake up my family, so that we could get off at PER. My wife too woke up shortly thereafter, and was with me at the door briefly, as we hit TRL in about 17 minutes, riding all greens. As we switched on to the fast line at TRL, it was a wave of greens that hit us and we were out of the train at PER at exactly 0505 – and the arrival at MAS would be bang on time, save for PF availability issues.

Thanks for patient reading, and hope you enjoyed it. Apologies, though for the length.

2007-09-18T15:51:00.000+05:30

MERE SAPNON KI RANI

She is the oldest surviving and still in working order according the Guinness Book of World Records. Born in 1855, initially working in the Howrah area, she was put to a well deserved rest around 1908. After a whopping eighty seven years resting – thankfully not rusting on the outside of the Headquarters where she was serving, she was shipped to Chennai in 1995 to see if she could handle some more work at the ripe old age of a hundred and forty years.

She has, and how! She still does the work of pulling trains – though a lighter load for steam loving, mainly foreign tourists. She is the Fairy Queen – the grandmother of all steam locomotives. “The Fairy Queen comes here once in two years for a full check up – what we call the Periodic Overhaul”, informs R Kuppan, Chief Workshop Manager of the Perambur Loco Works.

“This year, the overhaul has been pretty comprehensive and well ahead of time”, announces Parimala Kumar, Works Manager of the Perambur Loco Works. The trial run of the Queen within the workshop precincts was a great hit – and it was an exclusive to Madraplus. The longer version of the trial run will take place today on the Perambur Loco Works line to Padi station on the Villivakkam-Anna Nagar line.

“This year, we have made a number of modifications, based on our earlier experiences’, says Kuppan. “One major area was the injectors, which we concentrated this year first”, says Parimala Kumar, reminiscing of the stop-start-stop trial run the last time around. That the efforts have been superlative is evident from the almost flawless trial run – achieving the maximum pressure on the boilers. “We have changed a few parts – and that is not easy considering that there are absolutely no drawings for any part”, recalls Kuppan. “We have fabricated most parts that needed to be replaced as a inhouse project”, adds Parimala Kumar.

The Ash Pan has been given a sliding mechanism – so that ash does not accumulate in the trays, the water equalizing has been made more efficient across the two tanks, thanks to the larger pipe that has been run through – in spite of challenging difficulties like not finding enough space for the pipe. All the one hundred and four tubes have been dismantled, descaled and reassembled in the boiler – and the Queen now looks more like a bride than the run down dowager when she arrived here in July.

Given the age of the locomotive – 152 years to be exact, she seems to be in shipshape. There is absolutely no doubt that the years of rest have taken its toll – but the engineers have done such a wonderful job, that the age does not show at all. Given their expertise, the Railway Board is examining the proposal to send the Express – the twin of the Fairy Queen, and one year older for a similar rehab.

“Next year we plan to replace the boiler”, declares Kuppan, amidst the noise of the chugging locomotive. Kuppan was himself trying his hand on the locomotive and said, “it was an exhilarating experience, and we have to thank Mr Carmelus, the Chief Mechanical Engineer of Southern Railway, who has been a source of great inspiration”.

Well, our appetite does not seem to end here. We plan to take out the trial run today as well, and make most of the good times as they last. After, she is Mere Sapnon ki Rani!

FAIRY QUEEN – A FACT FILE

Commissioned in 1855, with Road Number EIR 22
Ran initially on the Howrah Ranigunj route with express trains on the East India Railway
Decommissioned in 1908
Plinthed as an exhibit at Howrah for some time
Moved as an exhibit to the National Rail Museum, New Delhi
Plans for revival started in 1994
Sent to Perambur Loco Works in 1995, and revived to run
Hauled the Delhi Alwar Weekend Tourist Special every tourist season
Returning to Perambur Loco Works once in two years for a complete overhaul

This was published by ET Madrasplus on 6th September 2007.

2007-09-18T12:20:00.000+05:30

KALAIGNAR KILLS MOZHI

It was a launch that was eagerly awaited by the hordes of viewers fed on the staple of filmi stuff – songs, scenes, climaxes, comedy tracks etc. It was a launch that was eagerly awaited by the big soap makers that were intent on cleansing the souls of the million and more viewers of a new channel – now that they were done with basking under the sun. It was a launch that had lined up block busters even before the first switch of the transponder was turned on.

All that hype left me pondering whether the hungama was worth it. For, it turned out no different from the hundreds of channels that line our remote buttons. Feeding on hype, cinema and the ever cleansing detergents – that would be a better word to describe soaps. For, these are only hours that seem to deter gents from watching TV. The line up on day one of Kalaignar TV at least as far as films was concerned was mighty impressive. Mozhi – a slickly made wholesome entertainer and pathbreaking in the sense that it lacked even a semblance of skin show or violence was to be the showpiece in the afternoon. Later, the evening was to feature Imsai Arasan 23rd Pulikesi, a Vadivelu starrer that made no bones that it was a parody on the State of the Nation – opinion polls to that effect be damned.

I was eagerly awaiting my afternoon siesta, when the first strains of Mozhi started flowing into my ears, and I shifted my venue from the bedroom to the living room. What a decision that turned out to be! The unexpected huge hit that Mozhi was really hit hard by a channel that answers to the name of someone who is the protector of language. The movie was itself interspersed in advertisements – only as if to prove that the marketing guys had done a very impressive job selling the channel to the advertisers. It was, though, a very bad advertisement for the channel. Ten or fifteen minutes of advertisements interspersed with almost equal snippets of the film was the norm of the afternoon.

What was even more appalling was the hacking the film was subjected to – entire sequences were chopped off to fit the time slot that was allocated to this film. My daughters who have seen this twice – I have seen this movie only once on the screens, were disappointed by the indiscriminate slaying resorted to in this fashion. I was too, but there was nothing that we could to save Mozhi from murder. It was as insensitive to the viewer as it was to the subject that Mozhi dealt with.

At the end of it all, as the last frame of Mozhi played out, the marketing guys had won – it was one big win going by the way the ad time outstripped the programme time. But the channel lost one pair of eyeballs – and I will anyday trade this channel for a pirated CD – at least that will give me uninterrupted viewing on my terms – not on those of a bigoted programme killer – killing with advertisements.

2007-09-06T20:39:00.000+05:30

QUEEN’S STEAMING IDLIS

The mainline trial run of the freshly overhauled Fairy Queen was held this afternoon – 6th September 2007 from Perambur Loco Works to the Padi station on the Villivakkam Annanagar line. A detailed trip report with photographs will be put up by Ranganath Eunny and Gowrisankar very shortly on the list and the website.

Meanwhile, here is something that happened - that has rudely shaken me and I wanted to share this with you all at the earliest.

The run from the PLW to the Perambur Loco Works station was uneventful. As we got the shunt signal to proceed from the wrong line on the Perambur Loco Works station to the down slow line - onwards to Villivakkam, I impulsively jumped out of the coach and on to the footrest alongside the entire length of the loco, and perched myself on that foot rest right near the entry to the loco.

The loco itself had about 8 people in a very small space that would seem to be crowded with just two people. The officers were there for mandatory inspection etc., and about a dozen others were perched outside on different footholds on the loco. As we moved under the FOB and passed on the mainline for about a hundred and fifty metres, it suddenly happened.

The rain of coal particles mixed water first came in a drizzle, and I was in seventh heaven soaking up the refuse of the Queen – so to say. The drizzle soon turned into a torrent and we were all bathed by black water – scalding to say the least. The Queen suddenly let out a lot of steam – most of it around 100 degrees centigrade, and visibility was nil, both on the outside of the loco and inside. I was scalding inside, with hot steam and torrents of hot rain pouring on me.

I instinctively mulled the option of jumping out – I dared not, since I was unsure of the footing I would get if I landed a bit wrongly on the soil or ballast drenched with overnight rain. I then pushed myself into the loco – and this was again a mistake. I literally jumped from the frying pan into the fire.

Ten shouting screaming humans were stuck inside – I was one among them. There was no way could we catch a breath in the steamy atmosphere. All of us were screaming at the top of our voices to stop. The pressure had apparently exceeded the limit and the safety valve automatically engaged to dissipate the pressure. The safety valve would close only when the pressure reached lower levels of tolerance. The fact that the place was crowded did not help matters at all.

The shutters to the coach were also closed – as its occupants were also literally facing the heat. Gowri and Ranga were praying that we all get out alive – and Ranga probably was thinking of a flowery obituary – should the worst happen.

Then, thanks to the magic of the prayers of the well meaning great friends, the loco came to a halt – and the steam dissipated. I jumped out of the loco – literally frightened and too shocked to even speak coherently. None of us were steamed to idlis, but shaken and stirred, Bond style. So, here I am – still up and about – writing out this piece to you all!

Well, if the Fairy Queen comes again two years down the line – I will still be there – soaking in the atmosphere. But I WILL NOT repeat the foolhardy thing I did this time.

Thanks Gowri and Ranga!

2007-08-24T14:56:00.000+05:30

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!

2007-08-21T09:45:00.000+05:30

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!

2007-08-21T09:44:00.000+05:30

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!

2007-08-21T09:43:00.000+05:30

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.

2007-08-21T09:41:00.000+05:30

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.

2007-08-20T09:51:00.000+05:30

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.

2007-02-13T21:26:00.000+05:30

OUT OF DATE :-)

The next few posts are the ones that I have written over the last few years. There was a time lag before I could eventually search, source and post them on the blog. Some of them are still relevant today, some are not. Nevertheless, I felt the need to put them all in one place - and what better than my own blog?

Boquets and brickbats welcome.

2007-02-13T21:13:00.002+05:30

TRAIN IN THE RAIN

I have been searching for an English word that means better than picture-postcard-perfect. It has been a futile search, and I totally forgot about the same when I embarked on a railfaning trip on theMumbai Madgaon stretch of the Konkan railway during the monsoon. An hour into the journey, as you cross Panvel, the landscape changes dramatically. Greener than verdant green mountain sides, valleys, the rocks and the winding train, all play out a rare symphony for the eyes.

The Konkan Railways innovation of nets spread across large tracts of mountain side to prevent rocks falling on the tracks instill confidence.Tall mountains, deep valleys, all green, and paddy fields with saplings ready for transplantation are the sights one sees during this enjoyable trip. The train is slower, thanks to the precautionary monsoon schedule, and this lets you soak in as much of the scenery as you can. A short while after Roha, the Jagpudi and Vasishti rivers make an appearance. Now here, now off as the train meanders through the tracks, the rivers along with the green fields and the mountain side play hide and seek till Chiplun, interrupted only by the numerous tunnels that dot the route. The rivers never meet, but disappear ou tof view after Chiplun.

The Chiplun - Ratnagiri stetch is pockmarked by wonderful tunnels, playing hide and seek with alternating deep viaducts. The train dances through the tunnels, some very well lit and long, some short and dark, and waltzes across the viaducts, with waters gushing below.Entry into every tunnel is with a liberal shower of rain water gushing down the roof, and so is the exit. The wonder called Karbude tunnel-the longest in India at 6.5 km is on this stretch. It took awhole 10 minutes to cross - huge exhaust fans compete to keep the air fresh and circulating, the diesel exhaust works hard to neutralize this. A heady concoction for any one, let alone a rail fan.

Make sure not to miss the tallest viaduct across the Panvalnadi – another marvel of how man has tried to tame nature! The last of the season's Alphonsos are still inviting - no matter the timing of mid July. The route beyond Ratnagiri to Madgaon is no different. Shiny rain drenched dark roads snaking through, tunnels, viaducts and what not. The bridge on the Zuari is another treat to behold just before you reach Madgaon. If you love good food as well, make both the onward and return journeys by the Mandovi Express, a late morning departure at either ends, and a late evening arrival in Mumbai –about for the 550 kmstrip. The range of food is simply amazing - the specialities being the tomato soup, the chicken lollipops, methi kababs, Sabudana Vada-mostly specialities not found on trains!

Well, as I came back to Mumbai, I suddenly discovered that I had found a phrase that equaled better-than-picture-postcard-perfect. It was'Konkan Railway' during the monsoons.

2007-02-13T21:13:00.001+05:30

FERNANDO SOLER : THE REAL DIRECTOR

He seems every bit a star tennis player himself, dressed in a natty T shirt. This is his fifth visit to the Chennai Open and he hasn’t yet hit a ball on the court. But he is as important to the Chennai Open as the Nadals, the Moyas and the Nalbandians. He is Fernando Soler, the Tournament Director of the Chennai Open.

Residing in Barcelona, having a loving Indian wife, Fernando comes across as much a lover of Chennai as most of us. He has visited Mahabalipuram, Parthasarathy Temple in Triplicane and many other places whose names he finds difficult to remember, but whose images he holds forever in his mind.

“As a Tournament Director, it is my duty to take care of all aspects of the conduct of the Tournament. The support of the Government of Tamil Nadu and the excellent organizing team means the Chennai Open is a winner all the time”, he says. It is all the more important this year, as international sponsors are here, and the international TV coverage goes out to more than 140 countries, many of them live. “It is also my responsibility to get the best players to the Chennai Open, and I am happy to say that this year has the strongest field in the history of Chennai Open”, he informs.

If players like Rafael Nadal, Carlos Moya and the like make it a point to skip the Adelaide or the Doha Open in favour of the Chennai Open, Fernando Soler has had a major role in their decisions.

“Chennai is a city that amazes me. Every year here I see many changes in the skyline, and the middle class seems to be growing all the time”, he gushes. Words that seem to come from the heart. Also from his heart is his appreciation for the Chennai fans. “They seem to know their tennis well, and the players better”, he declares. True words, as Carlos Moya seems to be an eternal favourite of the Chennai tennis fan.

“The absence of Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi is unfortunate for the fans, though so far, this hasn’t affected the ticket sales”, he informs. According to Fernando Soler, all tickets for the Friday, Saturday and Sunday – usually the biggest days in a one week tournament are sold out, and more than percent of tickets for other days are sold. He has also seen difficult times at the Chennai open – more testing times than the withdrawal of a star or two. “Two years ago, close on the heels of the Tsunami was the saddest tournament of my life so far. The way the players, IMG, the sponsors and everybody else pitched in was to be seen to be believed”, he says nostalgically.

As the tournament ends on Sunday, no man would be more relieved than Fernando Soler, and he still will not be able to rest. He has 10 more tournaments across the world that IMG is conducting for the ATP to do – though in different capacities. He would, though, while it lasts at the Chennai Open, love to tuck into Tandoori food, his favourite.

2007-02-13T21:05:00.000+05:30

THIRUSHKAMINI MD – A PROFILE

Like any other Indian cricketer in the teenage, this is one who idolizes Sachin Tendulkar. Like any other cricketer, this is one that likes to do things with both the bat and the ball. Like the idol called Sachin Tendulkar, this cricketer also opens the innings, though bats lefthanded, and bowls leg breaks. Like the idol called SachinTendulkar, this cricketer has won the Player of the Series in the debut series – the Asia Cup.The only difference is that this cricketer should be referred to as a she – yes, this young teenager from Chennai, M D Thirushkamini, all of16, won a lot many hearts with the Asia Cup for India, where she was the mainstay with the bat and the ball. "I have loved cricket –particularly watching Tendulkar play", she says of her initiation into cricket.

Her father, Dickeshwashankar, though would have preferred her taking to hockey – the sport that he played with élan for Chennai Port Trust – even managing to play along side legends like Samiullah ofPakistan. "I am happy that she has reached where she is – and hope she goes the whole hog", he says of his daughter.Practising six hours a day is not a joke – particularly if you are in Class XII – "The school has been extremely cooperative", she gushes ofthe help that Church Park have been extending her. "Batting, bowling,fielding, gym exercises are some of the things that I do on a daily basis", she explains, as though she has missed out something. But when all this hard work pays off in the end, as it has forThirushkamini, it is all worth it."I had no problems adjusting to the India seniors team", she declares with the confidence of someone who has played for donkey's years in the Indian team a la Sachin Tendulkar. "The seniors were very helping and gave me important tips on the ground", she adds. She seems to be entirely happy with her performance so far, though the run out in an Asia Cup still rankles her. "The ball ricocheted off the bowlers fingers to the stumps – that is the most unfortunate of all", she says.

True words of a cricketer who is hungry for runs."She has shown tremendous application and is very talented – in fact much more talented than legendary women cricketers", informs SudhaShah, the coach of the Indian women's team. "She has the potential and the hard work she puts in will definitely take her places, and her performance in the Asia Cup was simply superb for anyone, leave alone a debutant", gushes Shah.It is now time for the women's cricketing world to sit up and take notice – and this sounds double ominous for them – Thirushkamini's sister Sugaragamini is already an accomplished player in the sub junior ranks, and waiting in the wings, literally. It would be a deadly combination to unleash if both sisters play to their fullest potential. May be then, they will emerge as the Sachin Tendulkars of women's cricket.

2007-02-13T21:01:00.000+05:30

SANDEEP SYAL

Golfers are like Diamonds in this country. A rare commodity. So, in a land where professional golf has no moorings, where only a couple of Indians have won tournaments outside the borders, when somebody wins a tournament abroad, it’s great news. But when somebody equals a world record, then it’s really a stunning achievement. But 22 year old Chennaiite, Sandeep Syal does not think too much of his record of equaling eight consecutive birdies during a tournament last week in Chennai. “It’s a nice feeling, though I never really thought about it when I shot the birdies,” Syal brushes away. That record helped Syal to finish third in that tournament. Got hooked to the sport as a nine year old on the greens of the Kodaikanal Golf Club, Syal’s journey, thirteen years later, as the latest player in the world of competitive golf has reached the crossroads. “As a junior, I had played in the junior Asia Pacific tournaments and for the Ohio State University where I studied my management degree,” informs Syal. That experience then comes handy for him, now as a professional on the Professional Golf Association of India(PGAI) circuit.

The fast changing golfing scenario in Chennai is also one of his reasons to turn pro. “In the last ten years, Golf in Chennai has grown a lot,” says Syal. “With over 20 events spread across the country, the PGAI tour gives the much needed competition, as I get to play with the top pros of the country,” he feels. In a sport so desperately cruel, where a swing a few millimeters crooked, mean a shot gone awry, a tournament lost, Syal has the talent to go far and the world record is a proof of his uncommon resolve. When he plays, his swing is an act of beauty, his putting very sure. “But all this can change in just one bad round, or one bad shot. You will be choked by the fury of your own imperfection. But the sport demands that you forget and move on,” explains Syal. He is moving on, practicing hard to make it big at the Asian PGA tournament that is happening January next. “That will be my first cut. All my peers like Jeev Milka Singh, Jyoti Randhawa and Arjun Atwal went to Europe only after succeeding in the Asian PGA level,” says Syal who admires Tiger Woods and Vijay Singh. “Tiger is a phenom, and they do not happen every year. He is more like the Tendulkar of cricket,” he says. For Syal who feels Chennai could do with a couple of public courses, since the available two are open only to members of the clubs which own the courses, the Delhi course has proved the biggest challenge so far. “The fairways are narrow, and one miss and you are in the jungle,” feels Syal.

Contrary to what a commoner may think of the sport and the fitness levels the sport demands, Syal informs that one needs to be physically as well as mentally strong to be at the top of the sport. “I have lost over 12 kgs over the last year,” he reveals. Swimming and hitting balls on the course are his ways to keep fit and he practices for 4 hours every day.

But the mental game is tougher. Of all the sport, it is the most solitary, a lonely expedition of 18 holes, each shot an examination of character, for you play not an opponent, you play against yourself. And against a course, inanimate grass and trees to you, but with its water, wind, sand, rough, for the golfer it is alive, a beast that is forever challenging. Listen to Syal. “You play your desire, your mind. It’s fantastic,” and it is now very clear that he is hooked to the sport.

2007-02-13T20:58:00.000+05:30

SRINATH - CHAMPION IN THE MAKING

Train journeys are of many types. The ordinary ones that don’t interest a regular traveler, the special ones for first timers like kids and the ones that make legends. It was an ordinary train journey from Mumbai to Chennai that a young kid was denied a chance to play a game of chess by his elder cousins. It was on that day that he resolved to learn the game and beat the elder cousins at their own game.

He learnt chess and beat not only his elder cousins- on the way he’s picked up quite a few laurels. N Srinath, India’s youngest FIDE Master for quite some time has also defeated many higher ranked players and is now the reigning world u-12 chess champion. “I was really releived to take the pressure off my back,” admits Srinath of his campaign for the championship.
Pacing around the hall, after he lost his last round tie to a Filipino player, he had to await results of the other boards before the crown was his. “This is probably result of his lack of fitness,” confesses C L Narayanan, his father who has spared no efforts in bringing him this far. When asked about the times spent on physical exercises Srinath nonchalantly spreads out his palms as if to indicate five minutes. No wonder then he has often struggled in the last couple of rounds any tournament including the Asian Youth Championships in Calicut a couple of years ago where the title was his had he not lost the last two rounds. “This is one area he needs to work on,” says his coach Mari Arul, who is a renowned player himself.There sure must be some strengths also which have brought Srinath to where he is today. “Tactically brilliant, very calculative and a very fast player,” shoots Mari Arul. “He also needs to probably tune up his end games,” adds Arul. “Sky high confidence which he possess is definitely an added advantage,” feels Narayanan.

He has been through all extremes like a school that wouldn’t give him time off to play tournaments, to a school that will never allow him to school, instead ask him to play only chess till he changed over to a right school and found a right balance. This change has helped him take his ELO rating pass the 2100 point mark- he should end up at around 2200 at the end of the year.

It is not everyday that Viswanathan Anand calls up somebody twice. To congratulate him and to say he liked his games at the world championships. When Srinath was not home to receive the call, Anand promptly called him second time to wish him well.

If this is what a train journey can do to a determined kid, the ranks of two elder cousins of Srinath will only swell in the near future. And so will India’s list of world beaters.

2007-02-13T20:56:00.000+05:30

FAIRY QUEEN

It has been a Heritage High of sorts for Southern Railway over the last few months, what with the UNESCO status for Nilgiri Mountain Railway, the renovation of Royapuram Railway station, and now the Fairy Queen making an appearance in Chennai.

For the uninitiated, the Fairy Queen is the oldest working Steam Locomotive in the world, and in entered in the Guinneess Book for this feat. Originally manufactured by M/s Kitson, Thomson & Hewitson, it was built in the year 1855, a full century and a half ago. Commissioned and operating the mail trains in the Howrah Ranigunj section of the then East India Railway, it has the now famous road number EIR 22. It was decommissioned after a prestigious service in 1909.

Later, it found itself plinthed at various locations, ending up at the National Rail Museum at New Delhi . It was restored to working order and was the pride of the Museum upto 1996, when Indian Railways decided to explore the possibility of using the engine for Heritage Runs.

"The Premabur Loco Works was given the pride of resurrecting the loco to work the main lines", informs S Rangarajan, Chief Workshop Manager, Perambur Loco Works. "The Fairy Queen has been coming to us every two years for Periodic Overhauls", he added. This is the fourth such overhaul, and this is probably the most comprehensive, since the renovation in 1997.

THE TRIAL RUN

"The overhaul this time around is the equivalent of an Open Heart Surgery", quips R Parimalakumar, Assistant Works Manager, Perambur Loco Works. "All the tubes in the boiler were removed and replaced", he informs, making the tough job look easy. The trail run itself was delayed by small hitches along the way as the Queen made its way out on the tracks of the workshop.

We also had to wait for the main line clearance, since the Queen was to blaze a smoky trail through the Chennai Tiruvallur main line for a small distance. Frequent water filling for the loco added to the delays, though arrangements were made for tankers of water.

One could not help feeling the goosepimples as the Queen made its way on the tracks from Perambur Loco works to Villivakkam and beyond to Anna Nagar. "This has been a wonderful experience", said a Railway Official, who was inspecting the Trial Run. The pick up was good, and the Queen would stand the tough test on the Heritage run from Delhi to Alwar, which is slated to recommence shortly.

The whistle of the Queen was as good as one could get in the good old days of the Steam era. As the train chugged – it feels nice to use this word instead of 'pulled' as in the case of new gen locomotives – the distinct chuk buk sound was music to the ears. The flying dust of coal, water droplets all added to the thrill – though we ended up with our clothes soiled. As we waited for the signal clearance at Villivakkam, the eager crowds were all looking around awestruck. We soon left Villivakkam, after filling up water, and reached Anna Nagar a few minutes later.

As the Fairy Queen leaves Chennai after a well deserved rest and rejuvenation, to its rostered duties of hauling the Steam Heritage Run from Delhi to Alwar on weekends, the proudest people will be the Heritage conscious Officers and staff of the Southern Railway – who have done the unimaginable, first resurrected a locomotive that was lying unused for close to ninety years – and then maintaining it. Long live the Fairy Queen!

2007-02-10T11:58:00.000+05:30

ON STEEL TO STEEL : A PROLOGUE TO ROLLING CURVES TO RAULI

The actual trip report will be up on www.irfca.org in a couple of days, and is being done by Ranganath Eunny. This will also be up on this site shortly.

For more technical information about wagons, coaches, and railway stuff, please visit www.irfca.org. You will find answers to anything about railways that appear in this trip report.

It was a terse message on my mobile from Ranga of the Duvvada South Cabin fame – Tkts booked for 1VK on 5th February. Coming as it did in the thick of the IRFCA Convention arrangements during the last week of Dec, I think, I did not give much thought to it. I could only postpone asking Ranga – as it were, we met on a Sunday at Ranga’s place over Uppuma –the same meeting described in the mas2007.wordpress.com blog. There were a few others and everyone else seemed to know what it meant for a railfan to be booked on that train. I was surprised that so many others were interested in making a trip on that line – to the extent the six tickets were booked immediately on the IRCTC website then and there. It is another matter that two of them – Poochi and Gowri could not eventually make it – lifting the initial sheen off the trip, that will more aptly be described by Ranga in his portion of the combined trip report – something that I think is the first time being attempted. Bharath Moro is the coordinator, editor, dandamaster all rolled into one for the railfan’s interface with the trippers.

I will restrict myself to the preparatory part of the actual trip on the 1VK. The trip from MAS – VSKP and back to MAS. I chose to begin in the reverse – this time for thanksgiving. A big thanks to all those who made this trip possible – VSP, Ranga, Bharath. Also to all those who made this trip with me – Swaminathan a loco expert, Seshadri fondly known as Chechu – a doorplater nonpareil at 65 years of age and Karthik Nagarajan, our accountant for the trip portion dealt with here.

On the 3rd Feb 2007, our rendezvous was at the RRI cabin at MAS – Karthik who was dying to see this firsthand for the last one year or so finally had his date – and was there already when I was ready to leave home. We quickly met up at MAS, and the Karthik’s face lit up on entering the room – his face said it all. Chechu joined us at about 22.15, and the doctor (Swaminathan) would be meeting us at the coach.

It was a day that was very hectic for the SMs in the cabin – particularly since BBQ Trip Shed had no spare locos on hand. Why we would never know, but the instructions were to use the Brindavan Loco for 2657 MAS SBC Mail, and the first available P4 of either Shatabdi or the Kovai for our train. In fact, an earlier P4 was given to the Yercaud, and Cheran probably had a P1. All this meant more shunting work and the SMs were busy and harried shouting orders over the mike and the walkie talkie to the shunters / pointsmen etc. We had a good cup of coffee ourselves at a tea stall outside, brought a few flask of coffee and some biscuits for the staff at the RRI and left after the 2657 mail left us.

Up in the coach, Swaminthan had conjured a small magic. He had a printout of all stations on the routes we were doing – MAS/VSKP VSKP/JYP KRPU/RGDA RGDA/VSKP and VSKP/MAS. Very impressive what with the chart showing the gradients and the altitudes of the stations on the KK line. We left sharp at 23.35 as we received an SMS from Simon – Signal cleared.

Winding our way out, we saw the lines at KOK that come in from VPY and WST converge into the mainline, and we picked up speed. We were chatting for some time and it was time to sleep. Sleep we did, but fitfully. The coach – 01269 was oscillating like wild – some problem with the coach or the suspension it seemed. For, it seemed to bear some threshold and started the wild lateral movements once the speed was crossed. It made for some uncomfortable sleep. The moment the train hit the brakes into GDR – we were up – Karthik and I. We were 10 mts early at GDR – 0143 against the arrival of 0153, and left on time at 0155. A cup of platform coffee and a small chat with the TTE, who casually advised to smoke in the loo – if we were smokers. This was the hint that we required –that someone who really cared was around when we broke the law. A couple of smoking WDM2s were later spotted by trainwatchers on the two loos on the coach very often.

I did not sleep till Nellore, where too we arrived and left on time. We passed a station at high speed at around 0335, and from the limited Telugu I could decipher I concluded that it was Ongole. Hit off an SMS to Bharath, who was just arriving into BZA that we had passed OGL. This was a clear faux pas as I could later realize – we stopped at OGL for two minutes – a scheduled halt –though we were 10 mts late, leaving only at 0400. Said a sorry to Bharath –and also asked him to pick up a pack of Cigarettes at BZA as he waited for us. I got a prompt reply, and then went to sleep – or whatever sleep I could catch. Luckily, I could catch some sleep and was just hazy as we stopped and started at Chirala, Bapatla and Tenali. At Tenali, I decided not to be hazy anymore, and went out to brush and complete the morning schedule. We were leaving Tenali by 0525, late by 15 mts., but we had an hour to the schedule to reach BZA. The Krishna River was wonderful with water hitting off the moonlight on our coaches. A great sight indeed! We hit BZA at 0600 to the sounds of Kaapi….Kappi…..Chaaaaaya……Kaapi. Bharath sent word thru his mobile that he was near the loco – ah the wonderful ED P4 22219 that would take us thru to VSKP. A coffee downed, we then settled in our coaches as the train left at 0635, right on schedule. We alternated between high speed and some moderate speeds and slow downs for cautions etc., and we reached Eluru on time. Hard Idlies, cold Vadas followed for what was a fairly expensive Breakfast considering the quality and the quantity that was on offer. Downed with a cup of coffee, however, that was a good energizer for the rest of the day. Intermittently we went into the loo to have a smoke and emerged out cautiously – hoping that we would not be caught out J. We were a again 10 mts late leaving Tadepalligudem at 0810, leaving Nidadavolu at 0828. A few minutes later we passed Kovvur – the station which was on a curve with the main line signal dangling from the OHE mast’s crosslink. Unique it was and we had seen pics – now it was time to see the real one. Here’s the link to that picture taken some time ago:

http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Stations/signals/signalOnCatnery.JPG.html

A good shot by PVS Praveen, who would join us later at VSKP. This was the signal that sent us shooting thru Kovvur towards RJY. We left RJY at 0916 arriving there at 0902, some time before we were scheduled to. A great run and followed for the next hour or so, and we left Samalkot about 1002, late by six minutes inspite of the run. At Annavaram we had another cup of coffee as we still maintained the delay of six minutes. The delay had increased to 16 minutes by the time we left Tuni at 1055 and had come down to 10 minutes again at Anakapalle, which we left at 1046. Passing gingerly through three stations, we came to the door – three of us – as Chechu had proprietory control over one of the doors right through – to wave at Ranga, at his favourite RF spot. As luck would have it for us – not for Ranga, we came to a dead halt at Duvvada at 1208. Not so good for Ranga –he had to run all the way for about 100 mts and reached us only when he was out of breath. Neatly turned out in a wonderful Naamam – the Iyengar’s trademark, it happened to be his birthday as we later learned. We left DVD at 1219, and made it through Gopalpatnam cabin at 1235 and arrived VSKP 1250, 10 mts ahead of schedule.

This is where VSP asked us in true style of an advertisement : Are you ready for the magic? Yes, the Retiring room was allotted to us, later we also had three dorm beds, freshened up, had a great lunch at Tailasila Hotel and were ready to leave for Duvvada – to wish Ranga personally. VSP’s magic deserted him-the 1705 Passenger left only at 1805. We got off into DVD, crossed over into the town in the WDM2 that belongs to Ranga’s father – a million thanks are due to him for ensuring that we were not stuck up anywhere – even in by our standards remote Jeypore or Koraput – Bharath and Ranga are dealing with that part elsewhere. Wonderful snacks that actually ended up as dinner and a darshan at a temple nearby and we came back to VSKP to rest ourselves for the night.

PVS Praveen landed at the earthly hour of around 0330, rested for a while, and it was time for us to get up and leave for JYP.

The return by Coromandel was a disaster, considering some facts. The coach was a rundown 908280 – the cushion had sagged so much into the berths, that the wooden frame was actually pinching our bottoms. Coro arrived 0400 – 20 mts ahead, and left 0446, six mts late. We hit RJY 0746and left 0750, passing Bharath at Annavaram in the East Coast Express.

The worst comment is for the Pantry Car. I had thought that the Pantry was good –given the inputs I had about Gitanjali’s PC. I now regret the thought. The cutlets were half cooked, the omelettes were worse, the bread dry and crusty. The waiters were nasty to say the least – they would just plonk themselves on any available seat for 10 mts or so and then head back to the PC. At least on three trips during the day I saw a waiter sitting in our S4, and not going on inspite of having stock. Orders for lunch were taken before RJY – a terse shout “Lunch order”. Any enquiry was met with no answer or with a stare. I could not decide for the others and asked the waiter for minute. “Nahi hoga – agar order nahi diya lunch nahi milega”, so he said and walked off. I have never seen a man like this in my life. The joke was that all veg meals packets were sold as “Extra Veg Lunch”. Wonder why they behaved so badly if you could have at least a hundred meals to sell for those who haven’t booked them L

The real tragedy of the trip was the BZA stop. We were on line for at least a 30 minute entry into BZA. But late clearances on the last four stations meant that we were stopping at Gannavaram, Mustabada and Gundala for at least three to four minutes before being started. This meant that some slowcoach was ahead of us, and the controller did not clear us for passage. I later learnt from the guard that the Kakinada Manmad Exp was the culprit. The start at Gundala came to a halt at the Vijayawada North Cabin where the line to Gudivada joins us. We halted there for 20 mts to allow the Kakinada – somewhere Pass to enter into BZA ahead of us. Then at the home signal of BZA, we had a halt of another 10mts. All this meant that we hit BZA only at around 1100, instead of the scheduled 1020. I am well aware of the RRI cabin pressure, the cross movements that hold up trains, the controllers’ capers sometimes – but this one took the cake – 1 hr 17mts for the last 24 kms – no wonder even this slack seems to be tiny. Bharath also seemed to reach us 5 mts later than us on his East Coast Express.

The lunch we packed at BZA from the private caterer was very good – only they had no spoons. We were given ice cream spoons for biryanis and full mealsJ. The evening snack of Samosa with some kind of a cross between a sauce, chutney and imli water deserved its rightful place – the refuse bin. The earlier they hand this over to a contractor of the stature of at least the 2163/64 the better. We’d be better off packing our meals either from home or from reputed restaurants before we leave. Leaving BZA at 1120, we eventually arrived at MAS at 1800 hrs – having not lost further time. We saw a few people hauled up by the RPF for smoking – and we decided to tuck in our tails and remain silent. In any case, we had no stock of sticks. On the way we espied a variety of locos – a couple of G9s and many Barbie dolls.

Out at MAS, we walked out of the rear end the Wall Tax Road Parcel Office end- just to avoid the long walk to the front of the rake. This is why we did not note the loco number that hauled us from VSKP. It did a great job, and would have been lucky to get us in time – the BZA guys screwed us so hard, that the loco was destined to its fate. We were off to a tea shop for a good tea, and a well deserved cigarette. I took an auto home and headed off to wash the grime and dust off myself. Doctor dropped off Karthik and Chechu at convenient spots and headed home.

BTW, here are some facts about VSKP, thanks fully to Ranganath, the guardian angel at Duvvada South Cabin. I have done only a cut and paste job on this:

1. VSKP is the craziest station in IR. It carries the word Junction without actually being one!

2. All movements happen on one side of the station: the north end, including arrivals, departures, loco arrival from Diesel and Electric sheds and trip sheds, shunting of rakes and swithcing of tracks by locos. Even RRI could not fully automate the entry and egress and trains still have to stop at home signal for clearance. Unlike other terminii, this pseudo terminus has no additional slow lines or dedicated loco and rake yard lines. It is the only station at which all trains (barring the few new bypassing ones) have to reuse the same stretch for about 6 Km for arrival and departure.

3. Duvvada also is a crazy station where the station building is islanded between two sets of tracks. An overbridge meant for pedestrians and also two and three wheelers connects the station building to the main road.

4. VSKP had loco sheds for all three types of traction operating at the same time upto a few years ago. Electric Loco shed came up earlier than Diesel Loco Shed!

5. VSKP has the largest ELS with more than 200 locos and also one of the largest DLS with 110 locos. Its combined loco might is more than 300. It is the only home of the WAG 6 locos.

6. VSKP had the unique distinction of having an electric loco shed without one km of trunk line electrification. KK Line was the only dedicated electric freight corridor in India for many years. Before electrification of the trunk section, Kirandul passenger always departed with a dead WAG 5 behind a WDM2a. The WAG 5 was energised at Kothavalasa where ther diesel loco disengaged.

7. VSKP has 4 major goods yards and apart from a marshall yard: Port, HPCL, KK Line and Vizag Steel have their own big yards.

8. VSKP is a blue chip freight haven with a major Steel Plant, a major Power Plant, a huge oil Refinery, and a vibrant seaport and other industries. It is a haven of all types of Wagons from BOBYN to the elusive BTAP Alumina tankers.

9. Thanks to its industries, VSKP area has the largest concentration of WDS6 shunters. VSKP station, Vizag Port, Vizag Steel and HPCL together hold upto 60 WDS6 shunters. Vizag Steel and Vizag Port have their own loco shed and complete overhaul facilities for all their shunters. They do not depend on the DLS.

10. VSKP area's freight line criss-crossings showcase the freight-centric nature of IR. While the passenger trains have to share the same set of tracks for arrival and departure, Vizag port, Vizag Steel, NTPC and HPCL have their own dedicated freight lines.

11. KK line is a misnomer. It stands for Kothavalasa-Kirandul Line. In real, Kothavalasa is not the end or beginning. KK line is one of the most self indulging and"selfish" rail corridors in the country. The real KK line starts from Kirandul and runs all the way with dedicated tracks and wiring all the way till the Vizag port where it ends in what is called an Exchange Yard. This is a multiple line yard where all electric locos disengage and the rakes are taken into the ore handling complex by the WDS 6 shunters of Vizag port. The lines continue after the Ore Handling Complex into a wide yard ending by the waterline. this yard is called the Empties Yard where the wagons emptied of iron ore roll down to be reconstituted and returned to the mines of Bastar.

12. Gopalpatnam has an automated control cabin but no station exists here.

13. Simhachalam North is the name of a station just outside VSKP. It has two cabins named Simhachalam North North cabin and Simhachalam North South Cabin. Simhachalam North, Gopalapatnam and Duvvada form a triangle of one of the most confusing array of crisscrossing frieght lines. KK line despite being 'self indulgent' manages to connect to each of these, including towards VSKP, towards VSKP marshall Yard, to the port, its own yard, to Chennai line, to Howrah line and finally to vizag Steel Plant.

14. Vizag port had its own NG steam railway until 1987.

15. Waltair Division has another distinction : Some years ago, it hosted a steam hauled NG train running on the plains (Parlakhimidi Light Railway from Naupada to Gunupur) and at ther same time electric headed broad gauge trains running into the ghats upto 1000 metres above sea level.

16. Waltair also has the distinction of having two ghat railways: the KK Line and the KR line. that together have 90 tunnels (KK Line: 52 and KR Line: 38)

17. The southernmost point of ECoR is not Duvvada as the board outside Duvvada proclaims. Geogrqaphically, it is the NTPC Simhadri further south that is the southernmost tip of ECor. The dedicated line to NTPC and the SCR line from Duvvada run parallel for a few kilometers.

It was a great trip, and my first in a group exclusively for railfanning. Looking forward to the next trip whenever it happens.

Thanks for the reading.

2006-09-11T14:57:00.000+05:30

HEAVY HANDBAGS FROM PUTLUR

After a very early Sunday morning darshan at Mangadu, a temple near Poonamallee, I returned home with just about a quarter of an hour left to meet Rajaram and proceed to Putlur, a small village about a few kms before Tiruvallur.

The reason this time was certainly not railfanning - much more mundane, bread and butter - or should we say rice and dhall issues. At Putlur, on the 10th of every month a market springs up - in shanties - a word probably from the tamil sandhai. We were there to do a recce, and probably some shopping for everyday needs.

Rajaram has been there before, and he assumed the role of a guru - just as he does always. We reached at about 10.15 am, and being hungry I just tucked into steaming idlis and a couple of vadas as Rajaram watched by, waiting for his cup of tea.

We waded through the makeshift shops - just four wooden sticks over which was strung a piece of thick plastic to cover up as a roof - looking at the stuff up for sale. Everyone had something on offer, the provisions needed for a good Indian meal, gaudy trinkets to adorn the village girl's hands and forehead, pickles dripping in oil et al.

There were even a couple or more of enterprising chaiwalahs, juicewalahs, and even some eateries which served up piping hot puris, vadas etc. only if you were brave enough to savour them. Many traders did brisk business, and were also brave enough to tuck into the gourmet fare offered by the couple of stalls.

We had about an hour to shop till we dropped - and we picked up some dhalls, peanuts, fried grams - all dry items. Not brave enough, you'd reckon. The presence of Rajaram reined me in, and probably saved me from some kind of Putlur Belly.

Shopping over, we took the 11.15 EMU toPerambur and headed home, satisfied at our experience, and expecting accolades from our families for a job well done, and money saved in the bargain. It was a sort of an anticlimax when folks at home just continued having their lunch - why would they be interrupted by such trifling matters?

The next 10th on a Sunday falls in December 2006, and we plan to do Putluring with our spouses. If not for anything else to sing Sandhaikku vandha kili.....

2006-09-11T11:39:00.000+05:30

Hi,

It is increasingly difficult to be left out as the odd man. So when Rajaram decided to blog his way around the wired world, I HAD to do it!

So, I set about. What do I say about myself? I am mad about Indian Railways - so mad that I share this passion with more than 3000 members of the IRFCA.

Coming to my madness, I am usually at the door of the compartment whenever I travel - it has now become the norm for my wife and kids to say "He also came with us". The moment the luggage is set under the seats, I head out for the door to do a hundred things that even a railway official does not. There are so many stories that I like to share, particularly my trip reports - written from notes scrawled over a trip on a train. Many of these will be up shortly alongside and are pretty long and perfectly satiate the hunger of a fellow railfan and bore to death an ordinary reader. My family has rode out this madness of mine - I now put the blogworld to the same test!