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VOL. XXIV NO. 3, May 16-31, 2014
Short 'N' Snappy

By the way on a one-way

Do you know the Marina Beach? The Man from Madras Musings alludes to the sandy strip by the sea that draws the populace in its thousands each evening, especially during summer. Each time MMM looks at it, and that is quite often, he feels like falling on his knees and offering thanks to whatever is that force that has thus far saved this lung from unwanted railway lines, multi-storeyed condominiums for the affluent, and other such encroachments.

But to get back to the point at issue, what MMM wanted to highlight was the populace descending on the place in the thousands, most of it being two-legged as opposed to the two-wheeled, four-wheeled and multi-wheeled varieties. Rather alarmed at this, the police, which largely concerns itself with the vehicular kind, has decreed that a stretch of the road running along the beach be one way. This is the portion between Kannagi (Perfection of Chastity as the pedestal reads, whatever that means) and the Triumph of Labour statues. Vehicles going towards Fort St George need to turn left at the Perfection of Chastity and go along Triplicane High Road and then turn right along either Victoria Hostel Road or Bells’ Road to emerge again on Wallajah Road from where they need to turn right to regain Beach Road in front of the Labour Statue. Those that are going towards lighthouse can go straight down Beach Road between the two statues at breakneck speed. At the statue of the lady with the raised anklet the two-way system resumes again.

An ideal system would have been to have Beach Road as one way throughout, with Mount Road, which is anyway a one-way along large patches thanks to the Metrorail, as the return path. But that is not what our guardians have thought feasible. As to what they hope to achieve by making just one part of Beach Road one way is beyond the comprehension of MMM.

At this point of time, none but the police is happy with the arrangement. The traffic going up towards Fort St George detests making the detour at Kannagi Statue. Victoria Hostel Road, which was possibly designed for horse carriages and broug­hams, is unable to handle a large volume of vehicles. As for Bells’ Road, the Corporation/CMWSSB/TANGEDCO or one of the other diggers have dug up the entire stretch leaving just a narrow ridge along the middle on which vehicles need to drive. Walking on eggshells would be an easier task. MMM made enquiries and was told that the road was dug up by an ‘appropriate authority’ who was also supposed to flatten it out. But the latter task was probably left for the vehicles that are forced to drive along this stretch. MMM could not help reflecting that the various appropriate authorities who govern our lives work in biblical fashion. The activities of one are rarely known to the other, rather like the left and right hands as decreed in the good book.

Unlike the up traffic, the down traffic is delighted with the one way, between the Labour and Kannagi statues that is. Seeing a four-lane road that is devoid of traffic in the opposite direction, vehicles rush headlong, until they come to the chaste lady with the anklet. Here the four-way suddenly becomes a two-way once again, resulting in a huge bottleneck. There is much honking, cursing, swearing, jumping of lanes and other standard behaviour the Chennai driver indulges in. Several make use of the halt to open their doors and spit out that wad of tobacco that has for long been chewed. Add to this the pedestrians who cross just about anywhere other than the earmarked crossings and you have a heady mix. The police, however, as MMM said before, think it has given satisfaction. After all, it is the thought that counts.

Security, Railway style

Last fortnight there was that bomb explosion at Central Station that sadly took a life, following which we have had the usual noises about enhanced security at the station. The Man from Madras Musings, who has to travel often, was at the terminal rather recently and was able to feel the full effect of the ‘beefed up’ (why not ‘muttoned up’ or ‘porked up’) security at the place following the explosion.

There is no denying that the Central was designed for an era when light and air were the principal requirements, apart from easy entry and egress from the place. But now, all entry points but two have been cordoned off. A set of policemen guide passengers, senders-off, hangers-on and others to a single entrance. Here a couple of metal detectors looking rather worse for wear need to be passed through. Given the crowds at station, these structures are always on duty and keep beeping endlessly, sounding rather hoarse and tired with the strain.

Thereafter is a baggage scanner. This not being an airport where there is a distinction between hand and checked-in baggage, everything from laptop bags to large trunks have to be placed on the conveyor belt leading to the scanner. For some reason, this belt is at a height of three feet, needing enormous effort in lifting and placing the luggage on it. And once again, given our crowds, the scanner is on perpetual duty. Imagine just one scanner for the whole of Central Station! As to who actually checks what the scanner shows is a matter for conjecture. When MMM watched the process, the policeman on duty had a bored look and did not appear to care as to what was being packed in by our passengers. Which is all to the good, for our travellers can pack strange things indeed. A doctor uncle of MMM’s once travelled with a human skull, which he was using for an anatomy lecture.

MMM did not have much time for standing and musing on uncles with skulls or policemen with bored looks. For his bags were fast emerging on to the other side of the scanner where there was no gentle slope to place the emerging luggage on the floor. A sheer drop of three feet had most of the boxes crashing down and MMM wanted to be on the spot to catch his ere they fell and kissed the place to make it well as the poem goes.

After this check, life pretty much goes on as usual at the station. So much for our security system.

Tailpiece

The Man from Madras Musings wonders if any of his faithful readers noticed it. On the day of the explosion, several news channels carried reports and several had it on the ticker tape as part of their breaking news.

One of the Tamil ones, a channel rather ironically promoted by a group that claims to champion the native language, had it on the ticker with a rather serious blooper. The Tamil word for bomb was by mistake replaced with that of the human posterior. In other words, it said that several were injured following a powerful explosion in the behind. Bum for bomb in short. MMM wondered if that was what was meant by the word ‘arson’.

MMM

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In this issue

Why low voter turn-out in City?
Madras Landmarks
Confusion on heritage Conservation
A unique 77-year-old Tamil typewriter
The forgotten Harbour
EI mundo es un Paliacate
Chennai, a far cry from Madras

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