Blue boxes of many uses

The Queen (of England, that is), we are told, operates out of red boxes. The Man from Madras Musings wonders as to what Indian leaders use for their confidential documents. The Chief, MMM knows, works out of a small grey diary into which he periodically enters profound thoughts in a handwriting that only he can decipher, and that too only on a sunny day. Our beloved city, of course, works out of blue boxes, the gifts that our governing fathers have bestowed on us.

These boxes have been placed in all strategic street corners. In shape and size they resemble the large containers that carry industrial output from one country to another, on ships. The idea was that these commodious containers would be used as receptacles of the rubbish that would be collected from all the houses in the neighbourhood. Handcarts, it was rather grandiosely declared, would do that task of collecting the rubbish and transporting it to the blue box. The garbage collection vehicle (the big green one that is motorised and stops all traffic and which is not to be confused with the battered grey handcart) would then stop at each of the big blues and collect what is in them and carry them away to God Knows Where – namely the landfills about which nobody is as yet bothered except for those who have the misfortune to live in their vicinity.

That at least is the plan on paper and like all good things of Chennai, it looks good on paper only. In reality, the handcarts do not collect the rubbish. It is brought by householders to various bins provided by our Corporation. But, and here is where the householders differ from those in other countries – nobody puts the garbage into the bins. They strew their rubbish all around it. The motorised vehicle comes once or twice a day and collects whatever it can from the bins and from around it and departs. The task of emptying the bins is made easier by foraging cows that tilt them over in the process of reaching for some juicy plastic bags.

What of the big, blue and roomy boxes? They remain empty. Several have begun to collapse and present a sandbagged appearance. Some have been converted into cow pens and makeshift residences for rag pickers. One or two are convenient spots for a tipple or two after sunset, especially if a TASMAC outlet is nearby. The corrugated sheets are, of course, most suited for pasting posters. What is worse is that, as MMM notices, these blue bins have occupied what little there is left of pedestrian space on many thoroughfares. In short, they are among the most useless creations of our civic body. It is high time these are dismantled and the sheets put to good use, such as backdrops for hoardings, supports for cut-outs, and stands for posters. But then MMM forgets that that is exactly what they are used for even now.

Candles in the wind

Among the few wise things that The Man from Madras Musings has done, is the saving up of petromax and hurricane lanterns that were once used by his ancestors. For some reason, MMM was always of the view that they would come in useful and, sure enough, their hour has now come.

MMM alludes to the recent announcement by the TNEB (Totally No Electricity Board) aka TANGEDCO (Total Absence or No Generation of Electricity, Deploy Candles Only) that it will be resorting to power cuts once again. Not that anyone is surprised, but MMM understands that the High Tension users are having hypertension and several are swearing under their breath to take their custom elsewhere. Not that it has really made the powers that be concerned. The powers could not care less, or so it would appear. All that matters is that they need to be in power.

And, so, MMM has pulled out his collection of lanterns, candle stands and even a railway signal lamp which appears to have somehow attached itself to MMM’s grandfather’s retinue. (Like everyone else, MMM had two grandfathers and both were in the railways, so MMM is unable to guess as to which one of the two walked off with the signal lamp). These MMM plans to clean and press into service. He will be known as ‘The Lad with the Lamp’.

Leaving aside the levity, it is time that this power crisis is taken in hand. It is not enough to make empty announcements that the State would become power surplus in the next two months or words to that effect. For the sake of record, such predictions were made and received with wide acclaim in 2012, 2013 and 2014, the last one being made in May of this year when it was asserted that there would be no power cuts effective June 1st. There were none to give credit where it is due, but nobody said that this was only a temporary reprieve, and had been entirely dependent on wind power. In effect, like the Rock-a-Bye-Baby rhyme, when the wind blows, our State rocks. But what happens when the wind stops? Down comes the power generation and everything goes with it.

MMM is, of course, not entirely fazed by the power cuts. Unlike the High Tension users, he is a Low Tension customer and so suffers in silence. It is also with a sense of déjà vu that he does that, for it all reminds him of the time when he was the Cherubic Child of Calcutta where 22 hour power cuts were the norm, rather ironically when the State of West Bengal was ruled by a Chief Minister who rejoiced in the name of ‘Jyoti’, or ‘light’.

But those were days when ours was a country of shortages and we were taught to accept it as our fate. These days that is not the way. With everyone being exposed to international standards, claiming that our city or State is at that level sounds rather hollow when we do not appear to have any strategy to combat this problem. MMM wonders if any developed State/City/country can claim to depend on the wind as a permanent solution and then wring its hands when that fails. Sounds rather ancient, does it not?

Tailpiece

Once again, our airports have come to the rescue of The Man from Madras Musings, when it comes to the tailpiece. No comments on the English, but those in the know assure MMM that the Tamil is horribly wrong as well, as you can see from the picture featured below.

– MMM