Madras Week – MMM style!

The Chief spoke, and there was Madras Week. At the end of it all, pronounced a success by the three wise men who founded it, and their sidekicks who joined later, The Man from Madras Musings is feeling quite weak. It is the considered view of MMM that what with the Madras Week, the Music Festival, the Theatre Festival, the Literary Festival, the Adi Thallupadi, the Pongal Festival and other such events, Madras that is Chennai is becoming a much too hectic place to live in.

But leaving that aside, let MMM describe his own exploits during Madras Week. The Chief had fixed him with a burning eye and commanded him to do his bit and MMM had proceeded, rather like the Light Brigade. Chief of these was a television interview on Chennai, its historic beginnings etc. And so came the day when MMM, having spent half the night studying the Chief’s magnum opuses (or is it opi?), woke up early, performed all ablutions and having dressed suitably, left for the TV studios. These were somewhere down south of the city and MMM was informed by the chap who fixed it up that it would take an hour to reach from MMM’s place.

It was after an hour of journeying that MMM realised that he had got nowhere. There were glass towers on both sides and traffic volleyed and thundered to the left and right. MMM’s chauffeur belongs to a class which believes that asking for directions is infra-dig and so the car was bowling along at high speed. It was only after the route began to look suspiciously rural that MMM quelled the driver’s objection with a burning eye and asked him to enquire from the first villager as to where we were in. And it was good that we asked too. Had MMM kept going he would have perhaps had to write like Corbett that the natives appeared to be friendly and so he spent the night there.

The car turned round and soon civilisation was sighted once more, by which time the programme in which MMM was to appear had already begun. MMM, therefore, called the producer and asked him if he could go back home. He half expected a petulant voice but was quite amazed at the cheer it exuded. No problem, it caroled. It advised MMM to take his time. The programme was for an hour and MMM could walk in at any time. As a filler, the voice said, a photo of MMM had been downloaded from the internet and put on screen even while the anchor was holding forth on various issues that faced Chennai.

It was good 40 minutes later that MMM reached the studio building which was a huge office complex. MMM charged in, tripped over a couple of wires, had a glass of water pressed into his hand and was pushed into a seat. Opposite him was a personable wench, speaking non-stop. This was the anchor and when she paused to take a breath, which was seldom, a reporter was holding forth on the civic problems that Chennai faced.

We want to know ...

Gradually,MMM came to grips with what was being said. The reporter ranted on about water supply, polluted rivers, bad roads, terrible slums and the mosquito menace. After a while he paused for breath and the anchor cleverly got a sentence in edgeways, announcing to the viewers that MMM was with them in the studios and would give them a solution for all their problems, namely, the poor roads, the erratic water supply, the polluted rivers, the terrible slums and the mosquito menace. The city, she said, wants to know. She then beamed expectantly at MMM.

“Er..,” began MMM.

Whereupon the anchor said that our reporter on the street had some more to say and switched over to him. He then thundered about the horrible traffic, the cutting of trees, the unplanned colonies, the teeming slums and the bad buses. “Why?” he shouted, after having worked himself into a crescendo. It was then that the anchor said that well-known MMM who was in the studio with answers would, well, spell out answers to the horrible traffic, the cutting of trees, the unplanned colonies, the teeming slums and the bad buses. The city needed to know.

“Ah..,” said MMM.

Once again the reporter had something new. This time he had members of the public with him. He then proceeded to interview them. One man said he suffered because of the traffic. A woman wept copiously at the water supply. A third recited a jeremiad on the cutting of trees, while a fourth blamed everyone else for the pollution. Women then joining together screamed themselves hoarse about the teeming slum, and the bad buses. A child expressed her concern over trees. Then the anchor turned to MMM once again; no doubt the city needed to know.

“Umm..,” whispered MMM.

At which thoughtful expression, the anchor thanked MMM for his participation and said that his views had been most useful. She also hoped that she would meet MMM again soon in the studios. It all reminded MMM of day-to-day conversations with his good lady, also known as She-Who-Must Be-Obeyed. MMM since resolved to learn to speak faster. The first step would obviously be to get a word in edgeways while his good lady is holding forth.

The three laws

Our beloved journal, representing Chennai Heritage, organised its eight lecture programmes and mighty successful they were. The speakers and audiences were unanimous in praise. The hotels did a magnificent job too. The freeloaders had a field day as well, though their numbers have diminished. The Man from Madras Musings has formulated three laws based on their behaviour:

Everybody remains in a state of rest until informed that refreshments are served, whereupon it gets into a state of motion in which it remains till the refreshment counter is closed.

The indelicacy of the grasping claw is directly proportional to the delicacy of the dish.

Every grabber has an equally powerful and opposing grabber?

-MMM