Food for All
The Man from Madras Musings and his good lady, also known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, have been travelling around quite a bit. Butterflies could take their lessons from them when it comes to flitting from place to place. In all of these, as you, our dear readers must have guessed quite a few years ago, it is the good lady who is the visionary and executrix. MMM is just a one-man retinue. In this MMM’s good lady scores poorly in comparison to our politicians who have many in their train.
This point came home rather forcibly to MMM when he and his good lady were having breakfast in the restaurant at the hotel where they were staying. This was in ye olde garden city which is these days better known for stagnant traffic. The restaurant was quite full of patrons chomping away contentedly, and there was a generalbuzz of conversation, cooking, clearing of tables and people walking about the buffet. All of a sudden a quiet descended and looking up MMM found everyone gazing at the doorway.
There stood a leader from our state. And in keeping with a man of his stature he was not alone. There was quite an army of fawners and yes men clustering around him. And one glance at them made it clear to MMM that these were not the kind of people you associate with a hotel of this standing. MMM is a snob, particularly when he spends his hard-earned money to stay at upmarket hotels. But he was impressed with one aspect – here was the leader, a paragon of virtue, an uplifter of the downtrodden, a reformer who yearns for the revolution, bringing his people to a venue they would never have an opportunity to otherwise. Deep down within MMM respect rose for the leader. After all, here was a man who practised what he preaches.
The leader bent low to the person manning the desk and was waved in, along with his entourage. He went over to the buffet and began inspecting the dishes on offer. The accompanying sycophants got busy with their cellphones. One clicked stills of the leader sniffing at the porridge, sizing up the fruits, eyeing the idli-s, and so on, while another, younger and smarter, got the whole thing on video. This was the cause of friction for the stills man felt the videographer had stolen a march on him. The leader in the meanwhile went about his business, piling food high on his plate and then attempting a selfie with it all. He nearly came a cropper but then, there were about fifty willing hands and so all was well. The leader posed for a photo with his laden plate and then proceeded to a table allotted to him.
MMM was surprised to find that this was meant for a solitary diner or in this case breakfaster. He assumed that the followers were meant to eat at another table but that was not the case. Apparently, it is only in the home state that political leaders expect hotels to feed them and their entourage gratis. In other places they are paragons of good behaviour. They eat by themselves and what is more, make sure the bill is settled. Having taken his seat, the leader waited for a follower to spread a napkin across his lap (O blessed follower, and double blessed napkin and what can MMM say of the good fortune of the knife, fork, plate, coffee cup and juice glass?). He then gave a stately nod and the entourage melted away to the hotel reception. There MMM found them a while later, uploading all that they had recorded onto social media. Leader meanwhile made quite a meal out of his breakfast all the while no doubt pondering over social uplift. MMM is certain that the followers drew sustenance from their leader’s well-being. After all, we are told plants manage on just sunlight, water, and some nutrients from the ground and surrounding atmosphere.
Lighter Thoughts at a Lit Fest
The Man from Madras Musings managed to attend quite a few programmes at the recently concluded lit fest. Many of the events were top notch offering much food for thought. The attendance was varied from very good to high with a strong contingent of the young which always make MMM happy. But there is MMM reflects, a tendency of late among the audience to preface their questions to the panellists with such a long preamble that very often the supposed respondent is clueless as to what is being asked.
Listening to these questions MMM was reminded of those medieval English accounts where the titles would be really long and often contain a precis of the story itself – How ye goode knight so-and-so tilted at ye dragonne and thenne succeeded in winning ye hande of ye faire maiden, etc, etc – you get the picture. At the end of it you could skip the story as you got a good idea as to what it was all about. Here, at the Lit Fest, the questions, if they could be termed as such, were different. For they only succeeded in obfuscation. Consequently, some of the events could accommodate just one query, as these were so verbose and time consuming.
There were other aspects to questioning. There was this VIP, and is to be expected, front row, who was an inveterate questioner. Unlike the others he was, in keeping with his name, brief and to the point, but boy, did he have a query on everything from cricket to Carnatic music. And the volunteers, fearful no doubt of passing him over, had to offer the mic first to him. That meant even less opportunities for mere mortals who anyway would have been longwinded. It was with some amusement that MMM watched a speaker answer a query from this VIP. He began by stating, “in matters of cricket, I too am a snob…” thereby implying many things.
Another front row questioner got his comeuppance at the hands of this same speaker who is a top-ranking Carnatic musician. The question was on how to prevent audiences from walking in and out of Carnatic music performances at will. That this questioner had sauntered in fifteen minutes after this programme had begun was on everyone else’s mind. And the musician too had evidently noticed it. He replied saying that this was the problem with all free events. Audiences have no sense of responsibility. It was the same everywhere from the Music Academy downwards he said. And herein lay the sting, he said lit fests were no different. Questioner had the grace to grimace.