The Madras I know

Photo Courtesy: Prabhu Kalidas

Madras is Hotel Excellent that serves delicious biriyani till 12 midnight. Madras is Hotel Mathsya that serves bland dosas till 2 am. Madras is Hotel Zum Zum that home delivers biriyani even during heavy rains. Madras is the window bajji shop near Kapaleeswarar temple. Madras is Fruit Shop at Greams Road that serves thick juices where waiters accept no tips. Madras is Agarwal Bhavan where you get thick lassi and spicy samosas. Madras is Hotel Saravana Bhavan where only coffee is palatable and when you are not satisfied with the sugar, temperature or whatever, they give you a new coffee without a question.

Madras is its auto men who never put meter. Madras is its auto men at the local stands whom you trust more than Ola. Madras is where you learn never to start a conversation with the automan because when you start one, he never stops.

Madras is the busy buses in the peak hours akin to the ones that carried Jews to the concentration camps. (Thanks - Charu Nivedita). Madras is the buses that stop wherever you wave hands, after a late night show.

Madras is the uninhabited Mass Rapid Transport System stations. Madras is the women who eat tiffin in the morning and weave flowers in the evenings, all in the jostling local train.

Madras is first day first show at Satyam. Madas is the popcorn at Satyam.

Madras is Parrys where you get everything from a hairpin to a dildo. Madras is that human ocean in Parrys, which you will see in your hometown only on Deepavali’s eve.

Madras is Santhome, where Charu Nivedita resides. Madras is the Kaviko Hall, where you attend literary meetings. Madras is those little nondescript restaurants that I explore all by myself, or with Charu Nivedita, Selvakumar or Subramanian.

Madras is the treeless Old Mahabalipuram Road. Madras is the irritation you get, when someone residing at Sholinganallur believes he lives in Madras.

Madras is Hotel Hameedia that served tasty biryanis for sixty years but closed its doors recently. Madras is Hotel Samco that did not close doors but got ‘renovated’ just to serve non-palatable biriyani.

Madras is where you never eat an idli, because it is not what it is.

Madras is those loyal patients who insist getting treated from you at Tondiarpet, even after they migrated to Guduvanchery. Madras is those drunkard patients on Aadi month, on new year eve's, Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons.

Happy Madras Day!

PS: Thanks, Baradwaj Rangan for the inspiration to this article. https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2014/08/16/my-favourite-madras-things/

Marginal Man

The maid was saying this today. Her husband is a drunkard. Her three daughters were married before they were nineteen. She declared fifteen sovereigns as dowry for the third daughter but could give only twelve sovereigns during marriage. Her only son, 27, is employed in a BPO with a meagre ten thousand rupees a month. She expects her son to give her money to buy three more sovereigns. The son argues, rightly so, how much can he give, as he has already given much of his savings during the marriage of the earlier siblings.

Charu Nivedita, in his Marginal Man (Exile in Tamil), has written a similar, more intense depiction of this event. I feel what makes Marginal Man so intense is it is more rooted and it's a much honest depiction of the Indian life.

Novel

After an hour into this erstwhile novel, (its updated version is also by the same name), I was over-joyous and opined that this is the best work of Charu till date. Then, my joy reached a plateau in the mid-course, on reading Anjali's constant complaints. I felt Anjali is cheating on Udhaya. To my surprise, The fifth climax by Kokarako reflected my thoughts. Through the final hour into the novel, my joy reached crests, with five different climaxes ( six actually, counting the one in the first page), reflecting five different possibilities.

The political ideas put forth by Udhaya and Kokarako are very important. Udhaya says the reason he does not want to go into spiritual  business - is that because he does not want to leave behind an organisation in his name after his death. He feels the organisation dictates people what to watch, who to follow, what to read - simply it 'makes' opinion for people.

 

Kokarako, in the fifth climax, questions Anjali of her deeds. He feels it is an 'attitude problem' of women like Anjali. Kokarako goes on to say this political statement: women should come up and lead the men and shepherd the family.

The writer has great guts in writing about Pakkirisamy and the scam involving crores and ministers. The modi-operandi of Pakirisamy are explained in detail and in an easy-to-understand language. And the test, the minister keeps for Pakirisamy involving an actress and not money, is nice.

Udhaya explains sensibly the truth behind the alleged sex-chat and the letter allegedly written by Perundevi to Jimka Saamiyar. I was laughing for five minutes on reading the 'ideal chat' proposed by Kokarako. Perundevi opines that it is even wrong to complain about one's husband to an outsider. Kokarako hit the bull's eye at this point asking Udhaya, whether Anjali has read this line.

The ordeals, Anjali underwent under the hands of Divakar, are not easy to pass by. In the fourth climax, Udhaya's daughter says she had undergone similar child sex abuse. In India, the girl child (children, in general) has socio-politico-cultural barrier in revealing it to her parents.

Kokarako, in the fifth climax, questions Anjali why her narrative is pegged by constant pessimism. It was my thought too. Kokarako mocks that even an eighty year old man, who comes only once in the novel, is shown as a badass by Anjali.

The five different climaxes written by the author is a brilliant move. It envisages the five different moods of the reader. The first climax is spiritual and says Udhaya has passed the 'lust part' of his life. Udhaya, in the most exemplary definition of spiritualism, says that it is an inner warmth that one feels in front of the Almighty.

I felt the love letters by Anjali and Udhaya in the novel contained too little love. The reader thinks the love between them is shallow. And for readers with opinion like me, the author gives the third climax, where they depart.

Altogether, I liked this novel - it started with a high and ended with a high.

(Originally written on December 28, 2013 in Charu Nivedita Readers’ Forum, Facebook.)