|
Still unoccupied
This refers to the ‘What the law proposes the hawkers...’ (MM, February 16th). Another exclusive hawkers’ market complex was built in Palavoyal Street, Ayanavaram, at a cost of Rs.1.35 crore and declared open by the former Deputy Chief Minister in September 2010. However, it remains unoccupied till now, even though the eligible hawkers were issued with identity tokens by the Corporation officials. It has come to light that the Hawking Committee headed by Justice A. Ramamurthy is helpless as none of his observations is taken seriously by the administrative machinery even though a deadline has been fixed by him.
As of now, Palavoyal Salai remains a bottleneck blocked by traffic, besides thousands of people, including school and college students, trying to get through to the main bus route on Konnur High Road. Even the police do not regulate vehicular traffic here, including the vans carrying loads of vegetables and other provision items for the hawkers and other shops in the area.
K. Ramadoss
4/1, P.E. Koil West Mada Street,
Ayanavaram ,
Chennai 600 023
Stranded at Pamban
The article on the Indo-Ceylon link and Pamban bridge (MM, February 16th) had me remembering how we escaped the wrath of that cyclone in 1964.
We, students of Botany from SV University, were on a botanical tour of the Pamban islands. After three days of hectic work, we packed up our luggage around midnight of December 21, 1964. All was normal. But around 12.30 a.m. or so, there was a sudden gale which increased within minutes. Pamban station was very small and all of us, about 25 in number, including girl students and teachers, were in one small waiting room when, suddenly, the roof flew off.
Our train was about to depart from Pamban at 1.30 a.m. but within no time we were informed that the train was cancelled due to heavy damage to the bridge. We had no place to take shelter in. We ran to a few rail bogies and stayed in them and throughout the night we stayed put as torrential rain beat down on the carriages. After several hours, I think it was about 10 a.m., the next day when the intensity of wind and rain decreased. We saw many trees uprooted, a big concrete nameboard of the station pulled down, and the roof of the stationmaster’s room and other small buildings in shambles.
When normality returned in the evening we went out to see what had happened. We were stunned to see the twisted rail lines under the bridge, the same place where we had collected some algal samples the evening before. We just could not believe what we saw. Luckily, the girders of the draw bridge were safe and a railway lineman was seen clinging to the girders.
We had no food till some local residents gave us some tea and biscuits. Next day an air drop of food was arranged and we had a better meal. Some students from Gujarat who had ventured to Rameswaram were washed away. This news made our parents lose hope for all of us. The next day, when the weather improved, we were transported by boat to other side of Pamban and our professor went to the nearby post office to send a telegram to the university about our safe return. If the train had been allowed to leave Pamban station that night we would have been washed away. In fact, by 1.25 a.m. or so the green signal was given and the guard blew his whistle, but within a few minutes, when the train was moving out slowly, it was stopped. It seemed the station master got a message not to allow the train on the bridge due to the impending cyclone.
Dr. V. Rajagopal
Former Director of Central Plantation Crops Research Institute (CPCRI),
rajvel44@gmail.com
A hoarse voice in the wilderness
In his book of essays A Passage to England, the late Nirad C. Chaudhuri, while describing the difference in behaviour between the friendly, purring cats he met in England and the frightened, hostile, spitting cats he met in India, remarks that each country gets the cats it deserves.
Agreeing totally with this sentiment, I go one step further – each country gets the culture it deserves.
And what is our culture today?
Being a reader of MM practically from Day One, I have followed the strenuous efforts taken by this publication in the cause of preserving our ancient and priceless culture forms – the latest (MM, March 16th) being the issue of despoiling our Marina with grandiose schemes for tourists (whoever they may be).
The question is preserving our culture – for whom?
When we visit a place of historical importance, we decorate it with graffiti and carve our initials and obscene messages thereon.
When we visit a public park or a beach, we litter the place with plastic, cigarette packets, gutka packets, water bottles and just about any rubbish we carry.
We urinate and defecate in public in close proximity to public drinking water taps and open air eateries.
What price the high society, highly perfumed woman sitting next to you in an A/C chair car of a train, bawling endearments to her grandchildren for half an hour at the top of her voice on the cellphone.
What price the man in the berth above you in a sleeper compartment who talks continuously and loudly on his cellphone till 3 a.m? How about the group of loudly chattering people, who barge into a concert programme one hour late and create a commotion searching for their seats while the performance is on and, after being seated, at once start chatting on their cellphones?
We cry hoarse about escalators not being provided by the authorities and, if they finally are provided, we proceed to jam the machine by dropping all kinds of litter into the works.
There are a thousand other examples of how crass and vulgar we have become as a society.
Let us face it… we have no culture, we have no appreciation of the aesthetics of life.
On a misty morning at Doddabetta peak, there is no reverent silence, no enjoyment of the grand scenery ...only lines of tourist cars, vans and buses parked bumper to bumper all belting out the most horrible loud music from their sound systems. And this is considered enjoyment!
Though I take my hat off to MM and others for their untiring efforts in preserving our culture, I am afraid, it is only another hoarse voice in the wilderness.
When we are unaware and indifferent about our culture and, instead, exhibit the worst forms of profanity and vulgarity, how will we appreciate the efforts of those who try and strive to preserve it?
As Nirad Chaudhuri would have said, we only get the culture we deserve.
S. Rajaram
62/1, Tamarai Flats, M E S Road
East Tambaram Chennai 600 059
|
