Madras Musings - We care for Madras that is Chennai

VOL. XXIV NO. 24, April 1-15, 2015

Short 'N' Snappy

When the Sar-s Finally met

The Man from Madras Musings has received several emails and messages asking whether the meeting that MMM Sar was to attend with the Government Sar (ref ‘Short and Snappy’ in MM issue dated March 16th) ever took place. To this MMM is very happy to respond by stating that the meeting did happen, and how!

The meeting was rescheduled to a particular date at 3.00 pm and promptly at 2.45, MMM could be seen, by those who cared to notice, walking up a broad staircase that was spick and span and, what was more, devoid of any posters or billboards praising the ruler of the day. The corners were also free of any betel juice. MMM was asked to present himself at an electronic identification counter that, having checked MMM’s retina and made sure that it was indeed he, allowed MMM in.

Having walked ahead, MMM was welcomed by a smiling receptionist who then ushered him into a meeting room where the Government Sar was waiting. The other invitees came in and the meeting began on the dot of three. The Government Sar had read all his notes and no time was wasted on picking up lost and tangled threads. The Government Sar also informed the attendees upfront that the meeting would last exactly thirty minutes by which time he expected everyone to have reached a conclusion on the matter at hand. He also said that the minutes of the meeting would be circulated within an hour of the meeting with clear action points and dates for everyone concerned.

The meeting then proceeded apace, but not before Government Sar requested everyone to keep his/her cell phone on silent mode. His own, he said, he would keep switched off during the meeting so that he was not distracted in any way. Thereafter the only other interruption was a tea lady wheeling in a trolley from which each attendee could select the beverage of his/her choice apart from a snack or two. Government Sar took copious notes, was all eyes and ears and made extremely pertinent observations. A budget was worked out for the task to be done and, being within Government Sar’s discretionary powers, it was sanctioned at once. As the clock on Government Sar’s desk buzzed the half hour, it was time to shake hands and leave.

As committed by Government Sar the minutes of the meeting were ready for MMM to see via email as he reached his office. From then on, most discussions were over phone and the planned task was completed to the satisfaction of all by the agreed date. The inauguration was a simple matter, Government Sar opining that this being a routine development, there was no reason for any fanfare.

Taken all in all, it was an excellent experience. MMM was delighted by it all and hopes that he will be called in to work on committees with the Government more often in the near future. Government Sar and MMM have also become good friends and the former often drops in to pick the brains of the latter and, when he does come, he always drives his car which, incidentally, is sans a revolving red beacon on its hood.

Now, friends, MMM trusts that the above story satisfies you all. Before you move on to the story below, remember that this issue of Madras Musings was printed on April 1st. You are advised to use discretion in believing the contents of the above story.

Parking meters

This, unlike the previous one, is a true story. The Man from Madras Musings was one of the many innocents who lauded the installation of automated parking meters all along North Mada Street. He hailed it as the coming of a high tech dawn to this international city of ours. Alas! Those meters have, like the proverbial Arabs, long folded their tents and vanished into the dead of the night. Those that remain have ceased functioning. And, so, matters are back to where they started from – a man who claims to be an employee of the Corporation (and to prove it, he wears a faded luminous jacket with the civic body’s logo) is now controlling the parking.

Shopkeepers who do not want vehicles in front of their outlets have long since squared him up and so, within the narrow space that is available, there are slots that are out of bounds for the average vehicle. The man does not issue receipts for the fee that he collects and woe betide anyone who has the gumption to ask for one. The rates quoted are arbitrary as well. A placard above the once-upon-a-time space for a parking meter has it that the rates are Rs. 5 for an hour, Rs. 10 for two hours and Rs. 15 for three. But the man on the ground does not recognise anything but a ten-rupee note and multiples.

The other day MMM was guided into a slot by attendant and then asked to pay Rs. 10, which MMM did without a murmur. Returning after a half-hour visit to the temple MMM got into his car and was reversing (with, it must be acknowledged, much guidance from the parking attendant who, from the way he shouted and waved his hands, could have been a coxswain on a boat) when his eye fell on the placard that clearly spelt out the rates. MMM then made bold to ask the attendant for Rs. 5 as he had parked his car in the slot for less than an hour.

The attendant could not at first believe his ears. Then he looked rather pityingly at MMM for his audacity in asking for a refund. Seeing however that MMM was rather persistent about it, he said that MMM had been away for two hours and so there was no question of any return of money. To this MMM (the honking traffic that was building up notwithstanding) said that he would call a neighbouring vagrant as witness. The vagrant, sensing that he could make money immediately, turned up and nodded.

The attendant knew he was beaten. He paid up grudgingly and muttered under his breath about cheapskates that came in cars and sought accounts for a paltry Rs 5. MMM was not bothered about it and gave the money to the vagrant who went off happily. Well, at least someone benefited from the whole matter.

However, what is sad is that our Corporation, having taken the correct step of mechanising the collection of parking fees, has gone back to such a primitive system that is prone to chronic misuse.