Registered with the Registrar of Newspapers for India under R.N.I 53640/91
Vol. XXXIV No. 3, May 16-31, 2024
Short ‘N’ Snappy
– MMM
When Grandaunt voted
The Man from Madras Musings has been writing this column for several years and apart from his good lady, also known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, no other relative of his has ever had so much as a mention in this space. MMM does not like nepotism; to the extent that when the rest of the world referred to the late Chief as Uncle, to MMM he was always Chief. But be that as it may, MMM is happy to introduce you all to his grandmother who is a hundred and is full of beans. And yes, she voted. At the booth. Not for her this voting from home.
And that reminded MMM of grandaunt, several years senior to grandmother and her constant companion for decades before leaving this world some years ago at the age of 99. Grandaunt too loved the elections and the sight of grandmother going to the booth reminded MMM of the times when grandaunt exercised her franchise. She belonged to a generation that had seen the freedom struggle and so for her there was only one party. But she still managed to keep everyone guessing and extract her entertainment from it.
These days voters are asked to log on to a portal to check their allotted polling stations and also get their voter slips. But those days were not like that.Political parties called at home with your voting chits and while handing them over requested you to vote for their candidate. Grandaunt looked forward to these visits and when the campaigners came made it a point to look extra feeble (she was as strong as a horse) and tell them that was most likely the last election she would vote in (she lived to see many more) and even that was doubtful in the extreme as she was so weak she did not know how she could make it to the polling booth.
This would immediately bring forth a barrage of offers from the campaigners. Pattima should not worry about such things they would say. After all, why were they there if they could not help her, they would exclaim. From the party that according to grandmother won freedom she would refuse all offers of help. Her logic was that they having sacrificed much in the past ought not to be burdened with her demands. But the Opposition was a different matter altogether. To them she would be all sweetness and light. And from them she would extract the promise of a car to take her to the booth and bring her back.
On election day grandaunt would be ready and waiting at the verandah of the house. A frisson of excitement went through the place as the car appeared and she was ushered into it, the household assembling on the doorstep to see her off. She always made it a point to carry the voter slip given by the Opposition and on entering the booth would promptly discard it and vote for her favourite. And then she made the journey home in the Opposition’s car, with a cheeky grin. She had pulled a fast one over those who dared contest against the only party that mattered. And so it happened, election after election.
She had another principle – never to divulge whom she voted for. We guessed it but she never publicly expressed her choice. It was the same with grandmother in this election. Someone asked her as she emerged from the booth as to who got her vote and she admonished the person by wagging her finger at him. It is amazing how that generation cherished its rights. Perhaps because it was hard won.
Communal Banter
Elections are always divisive and this one perhaps more so. The summer heat is a major contributor in the view of The Man from Madras Musings, who himself has on occasion felt Mad from Madras Musings and Mad at Madras Musings this month. How much worse it must be for these hardworking politicians of ours as they campaign in the heat and dust, and all the while the sun shining relentlessly on them. It is enough to addle anyone’s mind and these leaders are no different. In MMM’s view no right thinking and cool-headed person would be saying what they say had they not been on the road 24×7.
Unfortunately, the malaise has spread to some followers too, these being of the armchair variety. They believe that they are contributing their bit by spreading communal hate. Chief among this variety is the retired elderly male who is forever trying to buttonhole someone to pour his poisonous views into. This is a nasty version of the Oldest Member in Clubs, so popularised by Perhaps Greatest Writer.
One such individual caught hold MMM at a wedding and rather like the Ancient Mariner, who too did the same to another wedding guest, would not let MMM go. He began nicely enough by complimenting MMM on all he does for MM and by way of keeping history alive. And then he launched into his spiel –
“Are you aware that there is a plaque at the entrance of the Mylapore temple that says St Thomas visited this area in the 2nd century?” he asked.
MMM said he was aware but added that he had his doubts about happenings that far back in time, and that no matter what be the religion, these can only be classified as legends.
The man was delighted.
“Exactly,” he chimed. “I want you to speak to the Chief Minister and get the plaque removed.”
MMM asked him as to what made him think he had a hotline to the CM’s ear.
“He released a book you wrote,” came the answer. “So he must know you well.”
MMM opened his mouth to deny this but then realised that it was better that he kept quiet. After all, if the man thought such was MMM’s clout, who was MMM to refute it?
The story did not end there. The man then attacked all religions other than his and after a while paused for breath and asked if MMM did not agree. After all, was not MMM a co-religionist?
MMM had heard enough. He said he was not a co-religionist. The man was shocked. How is that possible he asked. MMM said he had converted some time back. Whereupon the guest upped and left leaving MMM to enjoy the wedding. No, MMM has not converted but there was no other way to get rid of that buttonholing bore.
