Singapore in Stone Age

The Man from Madras Musings is aware that the State’s leadership had long ago promised that this city of ours will one day become like Singapore. And he lives in hope, though that hope, never very robust, is showing signs of giving up the ghost. At least MMM’s recent experience of his road being relayed was not very encouraging.

Mind you, MMM is not complaining about higher officialdom. That was cooperative at its best and did everything that it could to make the process of relaying the road a smooth one. But it is the very technology and the method adopted in laying the road that makes MMM wonder as to which century we in this wonderful city are living in.

MMM is certain that there are localities in this world in underdeveloped countries where road laying is essentially a process of pickaxes and shovels. But he is sure that when it comes to first world nations and those that are in the top bracket when it comes to GDP, which is where we as a state and a nation claim to be, there must be a considerable amount of mechanization. That it is possible to claim that we are at the top and yet manage to remain in the stone ages was made manifest to MMM when he witnessed the actual laying process of the road.

There is no doubt a certain nobility in retaining old world processes chiefly because they give rise to employment. Keynesian economics if you recall. But at the same time it needs to be examined whether this is the most efficient. Picture then for yourself a group of desultory workers arriving who would languidly chip away the existing road. Considerable leeway was given to completing this activity and therefore there were days on end when nothing much really happened. And once this was done came in the process of relaying the road itself. This involved blue metal, known for some reason in Madras as jelly, to be spread on to the milled surface. This by itself took time and thereafter the stones were left as they were for a few weeks on end. Walking on that surface was an adventure and as for driving on it MMM can assure you that it was no pleasure.

Thus it was that MMM having taken his car out, found it suddenly moving by itself, guided no doubt by the loose stones underneath. Try as MMM might to control the vehicle, there was no success, and rather in the manner of the deaf adder, the car proceeded on its own course till it found a convenient soak pit into which it could rest one tyre. Thereafter it would not be dislodged, thereby causing a crisis. The urgency was also because rather like the ship that blocked the entire Suez Canal in recent times, the car was spanning the width of the road. It was all that MMM could do to station himself at one end and ward off vehicles and then periodically run to the other end and ward off some more vehicles. Eventually old technology came to the rescue – a few men arrived, chief among whom was MMM’s driver and between them and amidst much roaring and shouting they managed to lift the vehicle from the pit and all was well.

After a few weeks a massive road roller arrived to make sure that the laying process was well underway. Its arrival was heralded as the beginning of the next stage but thereafter there was no action and it remained at one end of the street. And then work began. Here again manual effort, particularly of the vocal variety appeared to be at its maximum and over a couple of nights and amidst much grinding and groaning the laying of the road was done. As a laid road the thoroughfare is a treat. But it has at the same time managed to cover some of the manholes and MMM is fairly certain that there is going to be a fresh process of drilling by the CMWWSB.

The TANGEDCO-TASMAC ­Connect

Shortly after the road laying, a new problem cropped up. One evening, at around sundown, the junction box outside MMM’s residence let off a minor explosion and with that two of the three phases in MMM’s house took their departure. The first phase (pun intended) of inactivity – wherein you assume your neighbours too are having the same trouble and so take it for granted that someone else will complain about it to TANGEDCO and all will be well- was gone through. At least that was MMM’s attitude. After all, one single phase was going strong, there was water in the overhead tank, and so God was in his heaven.

But MMM’s good lady, also known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, and always of restless mind, proceeded to institute enquiries. And it transpired that the neighbours were enjoying power in all three phases. And that meant a complaint had to be registered. This was duly done by She, and shortly thereafter, to give TANGEDCO credit, a technician arrived. MMM was despatched to deal with him and the man got to work. Despite being afflicted with a twitch all over his body, which seemed to increase with time, the man was efficient. The fuse problem was fixed he announced. MMM showered a purse of gold on him and he was gone.

Now, MMM’s cook, who was watching it all, did not seem happy. Why, asked MMM. The reply was that MMM had been overly generous and that the fix was temporary at best. The man was twitching all over as it was happy hour and he needed cash to go to the closest TASMAC said the cook. MMM was not inclined to believe the story but the cook merely asked MMM to wait and see.

The next evening, the explosion occurred again and the process of complaint and a technician (a different one) appearing was repeated. This man seemed to have palsy – so powerful were the tremors. But he managed the fuse with a firm hand, cursed the inefficiency of the earlier man, said that very inferior people were now infiltrating what was once a noble profession, collected his purse of gold, and left. Once again MMM’s cook clucked disapprovingly.

The next evening the explosion occurred again but this time She, who had wizened up to the situation felt it would be best to wait till morning and manage till then on a single phase. The complaint, registered on the morrow, brought forth a delegation from TANGEDCO, all of them steady. They clustered around the junction box, probed its innards, held a discussion over the body and pronounced their verdict. The evening shift people had tied a wire around a metal leg of the junction box that led to repeated short-circuiting they said and smiled with an attitude of how boys will be boys. It was an old trick they said, wherein foolish houseowners were repeatedly made to part with cash. They hoped MMM was not one of them. The cook hovering around, MMM made no reply.

The problem could be rectified said the delegation, provided a purse of gold was flung at them. Otherwise, MMM could go through the official process, when in the fullness of time, a tender would be floated and the parts for the repair obtained. MMM flung the purse of gold, this time with cook approving. He said acts of charity in the morning qualified as piety. Whatever it may be, the fuses are holding well, up until now.

– MMM