WE CARE FOR MADRAS THAT IS CHENNAI

MUSINGSVol. XXVI No. 21 February 16-28, 2017

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INSIDE

• Short ‘N’ Snappy

• On the trail of Albert Penn

• Rambling in West Mambalam – 4

• View from the high chair

• The scholarly sportswriter

Keeping heritagein the handsof Government

The black coast...

Disappearingdwellings

(Continued on page 7)

...choking with oil

The Kamarajar Port Limited(KPL) downplayed the issue ini-tially but the aftermath washard to be concealed from thepublic eye. Even as the Port au-thorities were denying the dam-age done to the environment,fishermen spotted slick floatingon the water surface while agood amount of dense oil hadbegun to beach by the next day.The Indian Coast Guard spranginto action, removing tonnes ofthick oil sludge from thebeaches around Ennore. Armedwith buckets and mugs, thelocal administration and volun-teers pitched in and helpedclean up the coast aroundEnnore. Thanks to the sluggishresponse of the administration,by the third day, the spill hadalready travelled on the wavesfor over 30 km south of the spillsite leaving the port authoritiesand the coast guard neck deepin muck. (Editor’s Note: As wego to print, it is reported thatremnants of the spill havereached Mamallapuram.)

The Environment ImpactAssessment for the modifica-

Disaster struck two nautical miles off Ennore’s Kamarajar port just before dawn on January 28when two cargo ships – LPG-filled BW Maple bearing the flag of the UK’s Isle of Man and MT

Dawn Kanchipuram loaded to the brim with petroleum oil and lubricants collided. The LPG tankersuffered a major dent and Dawn Kanchipuram was left with two holes that torn through it. Pregnantwith oil and lubricants, the cargo ship released a considerable amount of the stored oil into the sur-rounding sea.

� by Seetha

Gopalakrishnan

tion of the iron ore terminal atKamarajar Port recognises theincreased threat of oil spill theTamil Nadu coast faces fromthe passing ships and lays downa three-tier oil contingencyplan, identifying organisationsand fixing responsibility.According to the plan, a Tier-Ispill which happens within thelimits of the Kamarajar Port willbe the responsibility of the ship,

the Port authorities and themutual aid agencies. Outsidethe Port limits, a Tier–II spill,similar to the one at hand is theresponsibility of the ship, thePort authorities, the StateGovernment of Tamil Naduand the Indian Coast Guard.

Media reports suggest thatthe Port authorities were reluc-tant to acknowledge the spilland had initially informed theCoast Guard only about thecollision with no mention of theoil spill. Though a contingency

and disaster management planis available on paper, theextremely sluggish response ofPort authorities has brought toquestion the efficacy andseriousness of the actualpreparedness plan.

The post-collision responseis marked by a variety of lapsesby different agencies from KPL,the district administration, theTamil Nadu Pollution ControlBoard (TNPCB) and the Statecoastal zone managementauthority.

“The district administrationis the coordinating agencyresponsible for executing thedisaster management plan withthe help of the Indian CoastGuard while TNPCB is theexpert agency responsible forinforming the administrationand also taking action againstthe violators. Reliable firstinformation was not available,with top officials of the KPLadmitting that they solely reliedon the information receivedfrom the ship, says environmen-talist Nityanand Jayaraman.

� by The Editor

It has taken the Governmentof Tamil Nadu four years to

get going on the Heritage Actthat it passed. At long last, aHeritage Conservation Com-mission (HCC) was formed –the second of its kind and onthe fate of the first there is noclarity. The composition of theproposed new HCC is at presentdisappointingly full of Govern-ment representatives and nomi-nees from State institutions andundertakings. And not surpris-ingly, after the initial inclusion,the Indian National Trust forArts and Cultural Heritage(INTACH)/Tamil Nadu hasnow decided to withdraw the

invitation. This is an imbalancethat needs to be set right if theHCC is to be a meaningfulorganisation.

The Government’s dislike ofINTACH, Chennai/TamilNadu, has a long history. Eachtime one of our public buildingshas been threatened withdemolition, with an eager ad-ministration clearing the decksfor it, it is INTACH that hasstood in the way. It has been thelone voice for heritage, pointingout that the structures declaredto be weak are not really so andpointing out that these edificespossess historical significanceand architectural features thatmake them worthy of preserva-tion. More often than not,INTACH has had to seek theintervention of the Courts, andthough in many cases it has lost,it cannot be denied that it haswon a few. More importantly, ithas ensured that the argumentfor preservation of heritage hasbeen heard.

It was also litigation con-cerning heritage structures suchas Bharat Insurance Building andGokhale Hall initiated byINTACH that brought aboutthe first judgement, in 2010,

Disappearing Dwellingswas an exhibition of

water colours that was heldfrom February 14-19, 2017.Explaining his theme, theartist, K. Vikram Varghese,wrote in his invitation:

There is something strangeand unique about these disap-pearing dwellings. One gets astrange feeling that actuallypeople once lived here fromgeneration to generation.

You develop a strange feel-ing as if you were taken backin time and drawn to theseplaces, as if you were steppinginto a different age. Thesedwellings have aged with timeand I have painted them inrealistic style in water-colours,so that I could best express mysentiments in the best qualityand mood as possible.

I was completely captivatedwhile painting these composi-tions: Some of the composi-tions are in earthly colours.Each of these compositionsresembles a unique architec-tural design element andperspective, especially theMangalore tiled slanting roofs,the ruggedness of exposedbrick walls of open courtyards, and the worn-out andcrumbling walls which aredone in great detail. The

(Continued on page 2)(Continued on page 2)

Wellesley House.

2 MADRAS MUSINGS February 16-28, 2017

HERITAGE IN HANDSOF GOVERNMENT

(Continued from page 1)

ordering a listing of heritagebuildings in the city and takingsteps by way of a Heritage Con-servation Committee to protectthem. The CMDA set aboutforming such an HCC, whichpeopled as it was with a major-ity of Government appointees,moved very slowly. Here again,it was INTACH that was thesole voice of independentthought and this was not in linewith the views of officialdom’smembers.

The eviction of theINTACH member from theHCC became a simple task fol-lowing the case against the

demolition of the P. Orr & Sonsbuilding annexe to make wayfor Metro Rail. We do agreethat INTACH’s initiation ofsuch a litigation was not per-haps the best decision, espe-cially as it was neither theowner of the property and norwas it fully aware of the back-ground history concerning pos-session of the space. INTACHlost the case, but there is no de-nying, with all due respect tothe Court, that the judgementwas unduly harsh. Not only didit impose a huge fine onINTACH, which was subse-quently reduced by theSupreme Court, it also orderedthe removal of INTACH fromall Government projects of con-servation/restoration. Thereaf-ter, with INTACH havinggone, the HCC became a som-nambulant organisation, hardlyever convening meetings anddoing precious little to protectthe city’s heritage.

The TN Heritage Act of2012 mandated the formationof a second HCC, but now anamendment to the Act seeks towithdraw the invitation on thegrants that Art and Culture arealready represented. This is apity as all restoration work on-going in the State has just thePublic Works Department incharge of them. That is a bodynot known for its expertise inconservation and even the HighCourt, whose restoration afterconsultations with INTACH, isbeing done by the PWD, hasexpressed unhappiness over theway matters have progressedthere.

Perhaps it is time forINTACH to approach the HighCourt and seek a of some kind.Any reasonable judge will seemerit in the case and allow forleniency. After all, INTACHhas been allowed to conductheritage walks in the HighCourt premises for over twoyears now and that should be agood beginning to establish aworking relationship.

Disappearingdwellings

(Continued from page 1)

worn-out and dilapidated win-dows, doors, houses, and wallsare a real delight and visuallyappealing.

The pictures I exhibited in-cluded many from Chennaiand its outskirts.

Adding footnote in verse,Geeta Doctor wrote:

MEDITATIONS IN

WATER COLOURS

Touch me,Murmur the bricks,baked by the sun,the memories flakinglike the paint of time.

Caress me.Whispher the glass panesclouded by cataractsof rainbow colourstrapped by grime

Heal me.enfold me in yourdreams and makeme whole againArtist RedeemerMaker of water colours.

CHENNAI HERITAGENo. 5, Bhattad Tower, 30, Westcott Road, Royapettah, Chennai 600 014

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Several years ago, when TheMan from Madras Musings

was new to this city, he de-pended a good deal on peoplelike the Chief to show him theropes. And the Chief’s idea ofshowing the ropes was to getMMM, then a mere mm (manin Madras), to become amember of various organi-sations – a book club that hasno premises or office-bearersbut manages several interest-ing meetings in a year; a statelysocial club where you need tobe somebody, one way or theother, to get in; and a nationalorganisation that was intoprotection of culture, arts,heritage and much else. Andso it was that MMM paidup and became a member andhas remained a member eversince.

Of the first two organisa-tions MMM will not say muchbeyond stating that he enjoyshis membership. Of the thirdhe is not so sure for he does nothave much to do with itsdoings beyond reading amonthly magazine that is sentout and getting much mirthfrom the spelling mistakes thatappear in it. The latest issuefor instance speaks of a GeraldVelsli and it took quite a while

campaigners. All of them pro-fess to be the true torchbearersof culture, heritage and whathave you. As to what they dofor the rest of the year, whenthey are not campaigning,MMM has no idea.

At best, from what MMMcan see, these people, ifelected, will get to attend a cer-tain number of meetings inDelhi. They also get to havetheir photographs in the maga-zine referred to above. A casualperusal would give you the im-pression that these elected rep-resentatives did little otherthan hold up vinyl bannersalong with several others, walkaround school buildings beingkind to children and posturingin front of structures in variousstages of ruin. They also dohave a tendency to be seen inthe company of district-levelGovernment administrators,members of erstwhile royalfamilies and sometimes, minis-ters. MMM also wonders as towhat happens after many of theprojects that are announced inthe magazine are launched withmuch fanfare. Most appear tobe photo-ops at best. The realwork is done by the convernorsat the local level and MMMsupposes that that is what real

Elections, the heritage way

passion is all about – not jock-eying for some kind of office inDelhi.

In the light of the recenthappenings in Chennai, MMMhas taken to answering all callsfrom hopeful candidates withthe statement that MMM’svote is only for whoever spon-sors MMM’s stay at a resortoutside the city. So far he hashad no takers.

Lighting of a lamp

These are days, when TheMan from Madras Musings

gets invited to all kinds of dos.This is also that time of theyear when the cultural fever isat its height. It was previouslya malaise that lasted for amonth, but now it is fairly im-mune to medication of anykind and lasts a full threemonths. It is therefore no won-der that MMM is forever onthe move, now speaking onculture, now being shawled,now shawling, now lightinglamps and now shaking hands.It is all rather extraordinarilylike the life of a member of theBritish Royal Family, only inrather less exalted circum-stances. In fact, any time, anyof them needs a stand-in,MMM is willing to step in. Heknows the routine by heart andhe could do with a holiday inEngland. And in old Blightythere would be no requirementto light lamps either - MMM,ever since he has had to wearbifocals has become a little lessadept in this task; finding the

end of the wick has becomequite a challenge, especially ifthere is a burning flameupfront.

And so it was last week thatMMM was slated to give a talkat an event that was meant topromote our culture. After allthe hype about it, the planninghad been going on for over ayear, MMM was rathersurprised to see a mere hand-ful (one hand) of people at theinauguration. The programmehad it that a lamp was to be litfollowing which there wouldbe a ‘traditional’ music perfor-mance lasting twenty minutes.What transpired, however,was that the ‘traditional’musicians were already seatedbut there was no sign of thelamp. And so, the ‘traditional’musicians were asked to singtraditionally and as it progres-sed, a rather large brass lampmade itself manifest anddiverse helpers (there weremore helpers than audienceanyway) began draping floralstrands all over it. In all thisactivity, nobody botheredtelling the ‘traditional’ musi-cians as to when they had tostop and so they sang ontraditionally and overshot thetime limit, which is also our

SHORT ’N’ SNAPPY

for MMM to figure out thatthey meant Wellesley. Alsothere are words such as‘convernor’ (a convenor whoconverts?) and ‘liquour’. Be-sides you must have heard ofAthangidi tiles Chief. Andwhat about a message to a newlady member that she musthave a ‘productive association’with other members?

Anyway, all that is besidesthe point. MMM may also bebiased against this organisa-tion for he was the localconvernor for a year and didnot enjoy his tenure. Plenty ofpaper-pushing and a man inDelhi who kept asking forforms numbered in Romannumerals more or less blightedMMM’s convernorship. Andso, MMM’s affection for thisnational body is but tepid.MMM’s assumes that this feel-ing is reciprocated in full mea-sure by the body itself forMMM rather misguidedly ledthe body into a court case withrather unfortunate results.But every once in a while, theall-India members of this bodyspring to life. And that is whenthey elect office-bearers forthe national governing coun-cil or whatever it is that headsthe bureaucracy there. Emails,text messages, letters, phonecalls (and these in thecolourful accents of variousregional variations of English– MMM has been referred toas yum yum yum, EmmaEmma Emma, aim aim aimand many more) all of theseare put to good use by the

tradition anyway. It was agood half-an-hour before thelamp was decorated, fivewicks placed and oil pouredinto it.

The ‘traditional’ then cea-sed and five selected people –a sponsor, three organisersand MMM were asked to stepforward and light the lamp.Only there was no previouslylit lamp/candle to light thelarge lamp with. A scrambleensued among the helpers forlocating a lamp and after astage wait it arrived. Thencame the discovery that it didnot have oil and so someoneset off for it. This was dulyprocured and then someonepointed out that the lamp (thesmall one, not the large) didnot have a wick. That necessi-tated another wait and then,you guessed, there was nomatchbox. That took quite awhile. In all this, the sponsorclearly lost his nerve andbegan to babble freely aboutsolar panels in which activityhe apparently had made hisfortune. The lamps were even-tually lit, not amidst prayer ormusic but an animated discus-sion on silicon, wafers, panelsand the usage of solar energyin sickness and in health.

The delay actually helped –when the programme began ahalf hour after scheduled time,there were enough people tocount with fingers of bothhands, and by people MMMmeans real attendees and notdiverse helpers.

– MMM

February 16-28, 2017 MADRAS MUSINGS 3

� CHENNAI NEWSREEL

A bookshop,writers,and a café

� by

T.K. Srinivasa Chari

Art in the park

� by Vincent

D’Souza

Illustrator and social activistNithya Balaji liked what she

had bought at Art Mart on aSunday afternoon. A watercolour of a temple in SouthTamil Nadu.

She had stopped at one ofthe 69 stalls put up by artiststaking part in this annual eventheld recently at Nageswara RaoPark in Luz. And she was im-pressed with the young artistfrom Kumbakonam.

“I asked him to select for methe work he had done at thespot,” Nithya said later.

“We must buy for that is thebest way to encourage artists.”

Which is the sole intentionof Art Mart, and an idea thatgerminated to follow the annualPongal Mylapore Festival.

Added that evening, theRajkumars (Lathamani runs aart school in CIT Nagar and herhusband markets Camlin fromMumbai), who has a bought acouple of paintings, “This en-courages artists. It lights themup”.

For many a artist, some fromPondicherry and Kumbakonamand Neyveli, Art Mart was a fairthey welcomed.

Yes, the sun beat down on abald park, shorn of its green byCyclone Vardah, but as lunchof puliyogare and vadais sup-plied by Shantha of Mylaporewas served, the artists crowdedunder the shade of bamboo andpalms.

It was family and friendsbonding.

Artist Aarthi Rao, a full-time doctor brought along herhusband, father, in-laws andmore to her stall; they helped toset up her works, pass the tiffinof idli-s and spicy podi aroundand entertain their guests.

Said medical volunteer andtrainer Preetha Rengaswamy,pausing during her morningwalk in the park,“Its good to seefamily and friends deeply in-volved in many stalls. Says a lotfor the spirit around.”

At 4 that evening, Luz Buzz,that creative nook carved nearthe Marrybrown restaurant onLuz Church Road got abuzzed,23 children sat down to takepart in a painting contest. Eight

of them has come from Ponneriwith their teachers.

The art works were thenhung along the wall of a bunga-low nearby for a snappy exhibi-tion.

For Akshay Sreekrishna,studying in Standard IX inNagapattinam, this was a begin-ning of sorts. Encouraged by hisparents, he displayed his art-works; he even sold a few. Hesaid he didn’t know how to re-act to this, since he had to partwith his work.

Another school studentfrom Kovilpatti, Mukilan S.,and his parents were over-whelmed with the interaction ofsenior artists with him. He toosold a few.

Two senior alumni from the1970s of the College of FineArts, Jothi and Venkat, dis-played their ‘realistic’ works sideby side. It was a warm reunionfor them as well as their manyfriends who visited the fair.

Well-known artist and illus-trator Maruthi visited the fair,interacted with each and everyartist. “This is like my own fam-ily function and I cannot missit,” he said. (Courtesy MylaporeTimes).

It would seem that the Biblicalsaying ‘Man shall not live by

bread alone’ motivated two ofthe city’s very own business en-terprises to come up with arecipe called the Writer’s Café.Opened before three monthsago, the coffeehouse meetsbookstore is a collaborationbetween restaurateur M. Maha-devan better known as ‘HotBreads’ Mahadevan, and theiconic 172 years old bookstoreHigginbothams.

Corporate Chef KaranManavalan says that Writer’sCafé is part of the corporate so-cial responsibility effort of CCFine Foods South India. Notonly are seven burn survivorsamong the 30 people employed,but the profits of the café go tothe NGO, International Foun-dation for Crime Preventionand Victim Care.

The two-storied Writer’sCafé sits prettily on the cornerof Peter’s Road and Peter’sLane. Step into the Cafe and aglance to one side, reveals youguessed right coffee table books.One of them is about M.S.Subbulakshmi. Even thoughthe ground floor is predomi-nantly the dining area, book-shelves line the walls on eitherside with reads for both theyoung, adult and foodies. It issaid that Mahadevan was en-thused by the Arthur Hailey’sThe Hotel more than two de-cades ago to get into the foodindustry after being an aca-demic at Madras University.

The 50-seater café’s menu isSwiss-inspired and put togetherby Chef Silke Stadler. It consistsof soups, salads, appetisers,flammkuchen, a pizza-like dish,pasta, sandwiches, juices anddesserts, priced between Rs 30and 290.

Upstairs, Higginbothams hasthe stock of 1,000 titles witharound 13,000 books spreadacross the genres. Separatespaces exist for Tamil andchildren’s sections, magazinesand stationery. The bookstoreseats upto a dozen people who

could work on their writing,reading, art or just meet withfellow book-lovers. Free wi-fi onthe premises encourages visitorsin their creative pursuits.

Sharadha, the Business De-velopment Manager and Book-incharge, is pleased with the en-thusiasm of the literati since theopening. Recently, the city’syouth gobbled up titles ofMarkus Zusak, especially BookThief to have them autographedby the author at The Hindu Litfor Life festival. Popular Tamiltitles like Ponniyin Selvan are asell-out and first-time authorsyearn to have their books ondisplay here. The Café will alsoorder titles for you.

Writer’s Café has hostedbook launches, book clubs, thewriter’s workshop ‘Thirsty Pens’and birthday parties.

AVIS Viswanathan, Happi-ness curator, who wrote hisbook Fall Like A Rose Petal atthe Chamiers store and café,says, “Writing in this space is animmersive experience. It givesyou a great opportunity to bepresent in the moment, even aslife goes by. People come,go...they’re happy, sad, ani-mated, quiet...you witness it,yet you stay immersed in yourwriting...each word speaks toyou and the images you createcome alive!”

On the perceived threatfrom technology to books, let’srecall writer Stephen Fry’s lastword: “Books are no morethreatened by Kindle than stairsby elevators”. Here’s to manymore book cafes.

MADRAS

MUSINGS

ON THE WEB

To reach out to as many

readers as possible who

share our keen interest in

Madras that is Chennai,

and in response to

requests from many well-

wishers – especially from

outside Chennai and

abroad who receive their

postal copies very late – for

an online edition. Madras

Musings is now on the web

at www. madrasmusings.com

– THE EDITOR

4 MADRAS MUSINGS February 16-28, 2017 February 16-28, 2017 MADRAS MUSINGS 5

Rambling in West Mambalam (4) ... with Janaki Venkataraman

Helping out,the local motto

On the trail ofAlbert Penn

My great grandfather,A.T.W. Penn had worked

from 1865 to 75 for NicholasBrothers studio which was themost important commercial pho-tographer in the Madras Presi-dency in the second half of the19th Century with studios inMadras and Ootacamund.

John and James PerrattNicholas, the founders of the stu-dio, were the sons of LlewellynNicholas, a ship’s master. Theirsister Emma married a clock-maker and photographer calledJohn Parting, who left Englandfor Ceylon, where he set up a da-guerreotype studio. John andJames Perratt Nicholas followedthem, but John went on to Ma-dras where he opened a photo-graphic studio in 1857. JamesPerratt joined him four yearslater and in 1863 married EllenIsabella Higginbotham, thedaughter of Abel JoshuaHigginbotham.

Higginbotham has been or-phaned when very young andspent a few years as a seaman be-fore joining an unprofitableprinter and publisher in Madrasowned by the Wesleyan mission-aries. He acquired the business in1844 and relaunched it under hisown name. It quickly became theleading bookshop in the MadrasPresidency. It held an unequalledrange of books for sale or forreading from its library, whichattracted both the general publicand those in high office. InMarch 1859, in a letter to thehistorian Lord Macaulay, LordTrevelyan, then Governor ofMadras, wrote “Among themany elusive and indescribablecharms of life in Madras city, isthe existence of my favourite

book shop Higginbotham’s onMount Road. In this bookshop Ican see beautiful editions of theworks of Socrates, Plato,Euripides, Aristophanes, Pindar,Horace, Petrarch, Tasso,Camoyens, Calderon andRacine. I can get the latest edi-tions of Victor Hugo, the greatFrench novelist. Amongst theGerman writers, I can haveSchiller and Goethe. Altogethera delightful place for the casualbrowser and a serious booklover.”

By 1865, the brothers had stu-dios in Madras and Ootacamundand, for two years, one in En-gland to which James Perratt and

anthropology was intense at thetime and photographers, toquote John Falconer, the curatorof photographs at the British Li-brary, “felt the need to captureimages of cultures rapidly chang-ing and often disintegrating be-fore the impact of an aliencivilisation and technology.”

Penn is now best known as anethnographic photographer. Theimmediacy of the image in hisphotographs of the Toda peopleis remarkable; and this is com-bined in pictures such as ‘TodaMund’ and ‘A wayside view’ witha description of the way peoplelived and worked. The formershows a Toda girl greeting an el-

For many years AyodhyaMandapam used to be a

meeting place for the priests ofWest Mambalam. They usuallycongregated here in the eveningsexchanged notes, made appoint-ments and traded priestly en-gagements for the next day.That has, however more or lessstopped now, because of the ad-vent of the mobile phone. Nowpriests make all their professionalcalls from home. Priesthood is asignificant profession in WestMambalam. Priests from here areinvited to perform poojas,homam-s and rites all over Chen-nai. Although, till the 1990spriests were not very well recom-pensed and were looked uponwith a certain amount of pity(for having to live off the raw ba-nanas, betel leaves and minorchange that were usually given tothem by their clients), thingshave become far more lucrativenow. Take S.S. Manikandan forinstance.

Fortyish, well dressed andwith neatly cropped hair,Manikandan flashes his card tonew clients. The card advertisesthat he is capable of organisingall poojas and homam-s. He alsohas a cache of regular clients andthe fees are no longer anythingto sneer about. Manikandandrives a car and a two wheeler,has firm political views and is assavvy and with-it as any priest ofthese times can be. I ask him ifother priests of his age and statusare sending their sons to Vedapatasalas in order to becomepriests. He replies carefully,“They do. Nowadays many Vedapatasalas have CBSE schools at-tached to them. So the boys getthe best of both kinds of educa-tion. They can later choose totake up a secular job, but the op-tion of priesthood will always bethere. Actually, many youngmen are opting for priesthoodbecause of the lucrative fees and

Toda’s village, Ootacamund, c.1870. (A.T.W. Penn)

the increased interest in per-forming poojas and homam-s fromall strata of society.”

Manikandan’s father, Subra-maniam, for some reason knownpopularly as Dandapani, is, how-ever, of the old school. For longhe was a priest. Now, after retire-ment, he has taken on the smallbusiness that his father-in-lawleft him, that of selling pooja ar-ticles on the pavement outsideAyodhya Mandapam. Every af-ternoon at exactly two, he ar-rives at the spot on his two-wheeler bringing with him two

polythene sacks full of dharbhagrass, bundles of twigs, forhomam-s, bunches of sacredthreads, strands of turmeric-stained thali threads, vermilionpowder, turmeric and stacks ofalmanacs and prayer books.“Why do you open your shop inthe hottest part of the day?” I askhim.

“That’s when all my custom-ers arrive, the housewives whoare free only then. In the eveningthe men returning from office orthose coming to the Mandapambuy things from me.” The shopremains open till about 6.30 andthen Dandapani gathers his stuffin his sacks and heads home. Anexasperated Manikandan says,“Ihave told him not to do this. Weare quite comfortably off now;there is no need for him to be avendor. But he will not listen!”

His father retorts,” I like do-ing this. A lot of my customersare my friends. And there arepeople who depend on my shopwhen they need to buy some-thing in a hurry. I earn somemoney doing something worth-while. Why should I give it up?”

West Mambalam is also thehub for professional Brahmincooks. Pushpavati Ammal Streetthat branches off from Lake ViewRoad is unique in that ninety percent of its residents are profes-sional cooks. It is an unassuming,rather poor looking street but aboon for anyone looking forcooks to turn out meals for afunction. It is also a street whereeven today you can get a roomfor Rs 1000/- a month. And, it issafe. Destitute Brahmin womenfrom the districts often come toMambalam in search of liveli-

hood and, as they are usually wellversed in Brahmanical cooking,they rent a room in PushpavatiAmmal Street and then take upcooking assignments. Within afew years they are usually able tomove to bigger homes.

Do the offspring of priests andcooks really follow their parents’profession? Some do. Many donot. Most study well and get intosoftware or bank jobs and moveout of West Mambalam. Theymay shift to Ashok Nagar or K.KNagar, or they might leave townaltogether. Similarly the childrenof the bank executives, govern-ment officers, chartered accoun-tants (this is a favoured profes-sion in this area) and such, alsooften leave for other cities orother countries. This exodus hasdefinitely led to the greying ofWest Mambalam.

And what does the grey-haired generation of WestMambalam do?

Good things. All right, thewomen watch TV serials and themen watch cricket. And, ofcourse, they are all seriously intoreligion and rituals. And they all

love Carnatic Music. But apartfrom that they exhibit a real ten-dency to volunteer and help out.During the 2015 floods, whenWest Mambalam practicallydrowned, groups of local volun-teers worked tirelessly to evacu-

small hospital in a thatch roofedbuilding to begin with. Rajaji in-augurated the hospital. K.Kamaraj, the then Chief Minis-ter, granted them 16 grounds ofland. From the first it was de-cided that the hospital would berun on a no-profit basis. Dr.Lakshmi Chaturvedi, well-known Chennai gynaecologist,was their first doctor. She livedin Nungambakkam and when-ever her services were required,she would take a rickshaw to thehospital. The cost for the ridewas Rs. Five! “In all these yearsnot a single mother who has de-livered here has died,” the hospi-tal authorities tell proudly. Sincethen, the hospital has grown intoa multi-disciplinary one, the lat-est addition being a wing forheart ailments and surgery.

The hospital has been man-aged by three generations of vol-unteers from West Mambalamand its capital expenditure is stilltaken care of by public donations.Running expenses are met by thesmall fees charged to the patients.A consultation here still costsonly Rs.100. All surgeries costonly half what they would costelsewhere. Doctors from all overChennai volunteer a few hours oftheir time every week for consul-tations. There is also a team ofresident doctors. Free treatmentis given to the poor to the tune ofRs. 24 lakh annually.

All though, the hospitalshows signs of wear and tear, andit could look tidier, but it has ahuge bank of trust among WestMambalam residents and thewaiting hall is always crowdedwith patients. Apart from thehospital, the Centre runs acrèche, sells hygienically pre-pared baby food, and also runs acentre for training and rehabili-tating differently abled children.“The fee per child is Rs.350 amonth, but of the 63 childrenonly 13 are able to pay. The oth-ers are supported by annual do-nations by kind people aroundhere,” a volunteer informs me.

(To be concluded)

masula boat in the same spot;photographs of the bathing placein Coutallam and of the secondFall, and so on.

1875 was a bad time for Pennto acquire the business because1876-78 were years of one of thegreatest famines the sub-conti-nent had experienced. Unlikeother Viceroys before or afterhim, Lord Lytton correspondedpersonally with the QueenVictoria. On August 6, 1877 hewrote: Madam, I grieve to saythat, as regards southern India,our prospects have unexpectedlybecome very serious since I hadlast the honour of writing to YourMajesty. The situation in Madrasis most alarming and critical. InMysore, it is even worse. The fail-ure of the monsoon has been al-most universal throughout thedistressed districts … (and still),the famine spreads, and increasesdaily, with all its concomitanthorrors of cholera and other dis-eases, threatening to assume themost terrible and as yet unheardof proportions.”

There was no business inOoty that year. The Governorand Council stayed in Madras.So Penn travelled to Bangaloreto photograph the army and hetook his camera to the faminerelief kitchens, publishing a se-ries of photographs which, hesaid “will give a more vivid ideaof the severity of the famine inSouth India than the most elabo-rate official report or newspaperarticle.”

In 1878 Penn returned to En-gland after14 years to introducehis wife to his family and updatehimself on photographic tech-niques. He was not to travel backto England again for 35 years.

Back in Ootacamund from1878, Penn became known bothfor landscapes, views of the skiesof the Nilgiris, cloudscapes, as hecalled them, and portraiture.The 1890s saw the rise of theamateur as new equipment andmaterials made the whole pro-cess much easier and swept awaythe mystique of photography.The KODAK was introduced. Asystem it seems (that) is learnt byamateurs in ten minutes.

It was a change as great as theintroduction of digital photogra-

phy and the effects on the indus-try were similar. Both the Nicho-las and the Penn businesses wereseriously affected but, in the caseof the former, fate played its part.In May 1895, James Perratt’s wifeEllen Isabella died and twomonths later he was also dead.They had no children and itsounds as if they were insepa-rable.

Meanwhile, throughout the1890s Penn had been gettingdeeper and deeper in debt and onDecember 1, 1899 he closed hisbusiness. His home, studio andall the contents were sold withthe sole exception of his photo-graphic equipment.

With no studio he had to re-invent himself. He had a goodvoice and natural authority. Hebecame an auctioneer, a retailmerchant and a property agent.But at the same time, over thenext ten years he rebuilt his pho-tographic business helped by twotechnological advances: the in-troduction of photography forpostcards and for illustrations inbooks.

Of his photographs in LotusBuds by the missionary and au-thor Amy Wilson Carmichael, areview in The Westminster Ga-zette reads: “The feature of thebook is fifty photogravureilllustrations from photographsspecially taken of the children.Many of these – indeed all ofthem – are very charming. Someof them are mere babies, othersof larger growth, but in each casethe photographer, Mr. Penn, ofOotacamund, has succeeded inpresenting pictures, which willelicit high admiration. Thelaughing faces, curly hair, andfine physical development of thelittle Indians make photographsexceedingly attractive. Indeed,we have never seen a more ‘tak-ing’ series of children of the Ori-ent”.

Albert retired in 1911 andwent back to England with hiswife and unmarried daughter,but the call of the Nilgiris was toostrong. India was now his home.He returned to live his last daysin Coonoor where he died onOctober 19, 1924 and was bur-ied in Tiger Hill cemetry wherehis tombstone still exists.

� by Christopher Penn

his wife established, when theytook a break there. It was at thattime that he probably met AlbertPenn.

Penn was born in 1849 inStreet in Somerset. He left homebefore he was 12 and the nextthing we know for certain is thathe landed in Madras in 1864when he was just 15 years old. Hewas already a competent photog-rapher and one assumes that af-ter leaving home he had foundwork in a photographic studio inLondon, had met James PerrattNicholas and been employed byNicholas Brothers, who paid hispassage out to India, to work forthem for at least 10 years.

In 1865 he was sent up to runthe Nicholas Brothers’ studio inOoty, where he was to live foralmost half a century. Interest inethnology and the wider field of

der by lifting his foot to her fore-head in obeisance. It has the de-tail and feeling of repose that onefinds in a Dutch interior paint-ing of the 18th Century. The lat-ter, at first glance no more thanthat a scenic view, but closer ob-servation shows that Penn hascomposed a picture which showsthe steps in manufacture of awicker basket and, on the upperright hand side, the way that rat-tan mats were made.

In 1875 Penn acquired theOotacamund branch of Nicholas& Company, as Nicholas Broth-ers had become, and started un-der his own name. By that timethe Nicholas’ Studios had built alarge stock of photographs ofSouth India. The sea face at FortSt. George, a catamaran beinglaunched off the beach in Ma-dras and another picture or a

Wrong caption,he says

� Srinivas Chari points out thatthe picture in the WestMambalam article in our Febru-ary 1st issue was not KanchiPeriyavar. It shows RamanaMaharishi’s portrait being takenin procession.

ate families, bring food and wa-ter to marooned homes and theymade very little noise about gov-ernment agencies not helpingout. Helping out seems to be thelocal motto. A hospital such asthe Public Health Centre couldnot have lasted this long anddone so well, without the partici-pation of committed volunteersfrom the community.

Started in 1953, by M.C.Subrahmanyam, a Gandhian andsocial worker, the Public HealthCentre was initially meant to beonly a birthing centre. WestMambalam did not have a hospi-tal at the time and pregnantwomen had to go to hospitals inother parts of the city for deliv-ery. This often meant waiting inline at the railway gate andpeople joked that the woman inlabour would probably give birthbefore the gate opened. It wasT.T. Krishnamachari who sug-gested to his friend, Subrah-manyam, that he should start ahospital in West Mambalam toserve the poor there. Subrah-manyam and his band of volun-teers found the funds to start a

Dandapani, the retired priest keeps himself busy selling pooja requisites on thepavement. (Photographs: S. Anwar.)

The Public Health Centre.

The Wenlock Downs, Krurmond Valley, Nilgiris, c.1890. (A.T.W. Penn)

6 MADRAS MUSINGS February 16-28, 2017

(Continued fromlast fortnight)

From ministers in Delhi toMarwari businessmen in

Calcutta to senior counsels inMumbai, their offices wereguarded by south Indian steno-typists turned personal assis-tants (PAs), as assiduously asthey might be the inner sanc-tums of temples. Tandonrealised their power once he be-came chairman of Unilever In-dia. As was imperative in thoseLicence-Raj days, he had tospend much time doing roundsof the Delhi ministries. As soonas he reached Delhi, he re-called, his manager would de-brief him on the latest intelli-gence regarding their file:“Ramachandran, his personalassistant, had his antennae outand had learned from‘Ramaswamy’, the personal as-sistant of a minister’s secretary,that according to the informa-tion he had received from‘Ramadurai’, the personal assis-tant of the secretary in anotherministry, that was where the filewas now taking rest”. The car-toonist, Mario Miranda, wouldgive the south Indian steno-

The power inan office

� The South Indian typist

� by

Vikram Doctor

A help with thecomputer

For limited use

� MRS. VATSALA KRISHNAKUMAR interviewed at TheStenographers’ Guild.

Swapna Siva Kumar, 25, has just started out on a career as aChartered Accountant in Chennai. She doesn’t like her mother,Mrs. Vatsala Krishna Kumar, a housewife, to sit idle and so it wasdecided that the mother would lend a hand and help out with herdaughter’s work. “She has a lot of work of typing things into hercomputer and so I decided that I could help her out with thatsometimes,” says Vatsala, 50, who has recently enrolled for typinglessons at The Stenographers’ Guild in Chennai.

After completing her BSc and finding a lot of time on her hand,Mrs. Kumar had learnt typing and shorthand “because that waswhat everyone did in those days”. But that was nearly three decadesago and since her daughter now cannot spend enough time to teachand oversee her, she felt it was best if she joined classes for regularlessons and to refresh her skills. “I am discovering now that I lackspeed. I have forgotten the fingering. Certain fingers are still diffi-cult for me. For ‘A’ we have to use this finger,” she says showingthe little finger on her left hand. “I am finding that now it is nolonger as flexible as before,” she says with an embarrassed smile.

Vatsala has also enrolled for the computer courses offered bythe Stenographer’s Guild. “I am learning the basics – MS Word,Excel sheets, sending email…,” she says. I ask her whether havingthe skill to work a typewriter improved her speed on the computerkeyboard as has been regularly told to me by typing instructors.She mulls over this for very long. “The computer is easier. On thetypewriter you can’t afford to make mistakes and so I am morecareful…on the computer, I think my mind wanders a bit,” shesays thoughtfully.

� S.K. BALASUBRAMANIAN interviewed at ESKEBY & CO.The room is poorly lit with two of the three tubelights lighting

up as per their whims. Even the chairs protest their use by creakingwhen one shifts even slightly. It would seem that technology doesnot have it so good here. In the tiny office of Eskeby & Company,one of Chennai’s wholesale paper merchants, sits a Facit typewriterwhich looks as though it has almost been forgotten. We talk aboutthe typewriter. “I use it perhaps to type two or three letters permonth… to reply to correspondence concerning my quotations,”says S.K. Balasubramanian, the octogenarian proprietor of the firm,about his 20-year old Facit. “My business, unlike the others in thismarket, is not a daily business ... I deal in bulk… with universitiesand government agencies like the Southern railways,” he justifiesnot having a computer in his office. “I have a computer at homeand I use it for the internet and spend time on Facebook. Thistypewriter I have simply kept,” he says. “It is very old, you see, andgives trouble from time to time. Sometimes the ribbon gets stuck.Sometime something else will be wrong. Then I call the repairerand if he has to change the ribbon then I give him 20 or 50 rupeesor so and he goes away. But I have decided I will never spend moremoney than that, say 700 or 800 rupees on any major overhaul,”he says. “For me the machine has absolutely no use,” he says dra-matically as he digresses once again lapsing into another mono-logue about life and death.

typist-PA visual form inMoonswamy, PA to the politi-cian Shri Bundaldass.

Not all south Indian typistswere Brahmin, of course. InKerala, for example, the trendtowards taking typing-relatedjobs cut across communities, somuch so that Shashi Tharoornoted in India: From Midnight tothe Millennium and Beyond(1997), the joke was that “somany Keralite typists flocked tostenographic work in Bombay,Calcutta and Delhi that‘Remington’ became the nameof a new Malayali subcaste”.Even Malayalis who went to theGulf would send back picturesof themselves posing with type-

writers to prove that they hadoffice jobs, rather than the real-ity of construction sites (notedin Caroline Osella and FilippoOsella, Men and Masculinities inSouth India, 2006).

Guild is allowed 100 studentsunder this scheme-it is evi-dently a sought after source ofsteady revenue for the fewremaining typing institutes.The skills of these students willpresumably be exercised oncomputers, to which moststeno-typists transitioned easily(as compared to their bosses,most of whom still remain un-sure of the Internet, simply be-cause they are not used to typ-ing), but it is notable that themeans of professional entry re-mains a typewriter.

Not long after he retired, Imet Shetty in my office again.He had come to clear up somepersonal paperwork, and westarted talking about typewrit-ers. Suddenly he stopped. “Ihave to show you something;’he said with a surreptitioussmile. He took me to a bank of

Given this use of typewritersto convey status, it should comeas no surprise that theStenographer’s Guild hasadapted to today’s requirementsfor status. Dr. Sekar explainsthat the Ministry of Labourgives SC/ST candidates Rs 500a month for 11 months, to learnstenography and typing. “All ofthem get 100 per cent job place-ments after that,” he says. The

cupboards in one corner of theoffice and started rummaging intheir depth: “It was here some-where ... where is it now ... Ihope they didn’t get rid of it ... “Finally, he found what he waslooking for, tucked away behinda stash of printer cartridges-aGodrej Prima typewriter in nearperfect condition, down to theribbon tucked in for use.

“When the office started re-placing its typewriters, I keptthis one;’ Shetty told me. “Itwas useful sometimes for typinglegal documents that were hardto print from the printer. And Ialso thought if there was ever abad power failure, it might beuseful.” But after a while he pru-dently decided it was best tokeep the machine out of sight,well away from all implacablymodernising forces, especiallywhen he would no longer bethere to defend it. Now, Shettylovingly brushed the keys andtweaked the ribbon: You canuse it straightaway,” he said.Then he picked it up, bent andcarefully concealed it again,saying, “An office should havea typewriter.”

From: With Great Truth &Regards by Sidharth Bhatia andpublished by Roli Books forGodrej.

(Concluded)

Till February 26: Recurrence –painting exhibition by Akhilesh.Akhilesh is a painter, writer andcurator from Bhopal. He has had45 one-man shows in majormetros in India and abroad (atDakshinaChitra.)

Till February 26: Small formats byJK, an exhibition of paintingsand drawings by Jayakumar (JK).Jayakumar is known for his sur-realistic paintings. He is alsoknown for Art direction in films.Women and horses are recurringthemes. This show is a selectionfrom his small format paintings(at DakshinaChitra.)

February 25-March 5: UttarkhandFestival: Folk dance forms bySansak Sanskrutik and Parya-varan Sanrakshan Samiti fromAlmora. As a part of the festival,there will be display and sale ofcrafts (at DakshinaChitra).

February 26: Classical Music Con-cert: The performing artists areGanesh Kumar on kanjira, BalajiRaman on mandolin and S. HariKrishnan on keyboard (atDakshinaChitra.)

Till March 6: Celebrating its 50th

year of inception, CholamandalArtists’ Village is exhibiting theart collection of the Museum ofthe Madras Movement (at theCholamandal Centre for Con-temporary Art.)

WORKSHOPSFor childrenFebruary 18: Paper Craft:For adultsFebruary 25-26: Water Colour

Painting

Our Quiz Master V.V. Ramanan is on tour. His columnwill resume on his return.

February 16-28, 2017 MADRAS MUSINGS 7

View from the high chair

The black coastDue to lack of adequate in-formation, first response suf-fered drastically. Kamarajarport is responsible for mobilisingimmediate response teams. Itclaims to have the necessaryequipment such as skimmers,booms and dispersants to dealwith an oil spill. But booms andskimmers offer little help alongrocky shores. “Skimmers andbooms help if the spill had oc-curred in mid or deep-sea, notin near shore waters and rockybeaches. Even a suction pumpwill not do. High-pressure hosesand the likes are required todeal with the situation at hand.While the Marina and BesantNagar stretches might be rela-tively easier to clean, the rockyshores along Ennore present avery tricky situation,” addsNityanand.

Due to the uncertaintyaround the actual quantity ofthe oil spill, the Indian NationalCentre for Ocean InformationServices (INCOIS) has drawnup a scenario for a 20-tonnespill and has predicted damageto over 29.52 km of the coast-line. Out of the 20 tonnes, closeto 12.6 tonne is expected to bebeached while 6.5 tonne islikely to have gotten evaporated

and one tonne would still befloating on the surface.

Irrespective of the scale ofthe spill, petrochemical oilscontain paraffins, aromatic andpolycyclic hydrocarbons in ad-dition to trace elements such ascopper, nickel and vanadiumwhich are toxic to fish and hu-mans alike. As the spill oc-curred close to the coast, thebiggest impact would be on thepelagic fish which thrive in shal-low waters. Ecologist SultanIsmail explains that it is notnecessary for dead fish to washashore to ascertain contamina-tion; in many cases, the fish mayhave ingested toxic chemicalsbut would not have died fromit. The contaminants tend tobioaccumulate, with chances ofthem getting transferred to hu-mans when consumed.

Professor Ismail expressesdeep anguish about the mannerin which the government de-partments and the research in-stitutes have responded. “TheFisheries Department and themany research institutions inthe city should have taken the

initiative to collect fish samplesand conduct toxicity studies toquell rumours about how safethe fish are,” he says. Similarconcerns have been raised re-garding the safety of desalina-tion plants which functionalong the Chennai coast. High-pressure suction pumps are usedto draw water into the plantswhich use reverse osmosis tech-nology to convert seawater intodrinking quality water. “Arethese membranes capable ofseparating hydrocarbons mixedin the water? Governmentshould come out with a compre-hensive safety report regardingfish as well as water resourcesaround affected areas,” he says.

The extent of the massiveecological damage wreaked onthe coast will reveal itself gradu-ally over the coming months.Though it may be impossible topredict precise impacts, there isno denying that the ocean willbe burdened by this incident.When the deposits reach theseabed slowly, the bottom-feed-ing organisms, such as crabs andprawns, are likely to be affected.

“By the look of it, the oil ap-pears very dense and may con-tain several trace elements.Even crude oil has traces of va-nadium, iron and copper; and ifthe oil has been previously used,the impurities will be more andthe impacts will be greater.Studies should be conducted toascertain the nature, the com-position and the possible im-pacts of the spilt material,” in-sists Ismail.

The thick film of oil whichcovers long stretches of thecoast worries Saravanan Kasi, afisherman from Urur Kuppam.“The past week has been chal-lenging for fishermen all alongthe Chennai coast. Prices havedipped drastically as people arenot ready to come out and buyfish yet. A basket of fish whichusually sells for Rs 300 is nowbeing auctioned at the marketfor Rs 120. Government has toconduct studies and come outwith a categorical statement re-garding fish safety. More impor-tantly, we need Government tobe transparent and tell uswhat’s happening,” says Kasi.

R. Srinivasan from Kattu-kuppam in Ennore voices simi-lar concerns. “People are re-luctant to even buy dried fish,let alone fresh catch. Smalland medium-scale fishers havebeen hit very hard. Most havekept away from going into thesea as the cost of catching farexceeds returns. The EnnoreCreek is seriously polluted asit i s with ef f luents fromthermal power plants being letinto the water brazenly foryears together. Such a disasterputs further strain on analready struggling ecosystemand livelihoods associated withit. No catch, no income,” hesays.

From fishermen to environ-mentalists, everyone believesthere is a lack of preparednessthat has resulted in such a di-saster. Despite possessing thetechnical knowhow and thenecessary infrastructure, theagencies across the board havebeen found to be seriously lack-ing in preparedness, coordina-tion and execution. Unless thiscritical lacuna is fixed, thechances of a preventableincident escalating into a disas-trous tragedy cannot be ruledout in the future. (Courtesy:indiawaterportal.org)

voice best suited for barking or-ders at the armed forces, dis-solved into a shuddering mess ofsputtering and wheezing noises,forcing three Little-Folk toburst into tears. Upon whichhe, after being physically re-strained first, was led away gen-tly by his daughter.

Painful.

You Big-Folk don’t pick upon signals very easily.

If one of you is going: “Da-da-googoo-choochoo-chee-chee…”, and your target is giv-ing you our signature ‘Won’t-Respond Response’, whilesucking on a forefinger in a dis-tinctly distant manner, it prob-ably means you need to stop –like right now.

And then there’s the singing.

Oh, my God, the singing.

Again – some can…..andsome, well, they just shouldn’t.Mere good intentions do not asongbird make.

Ok – that’s a bit harsh. Noone’s looking for award-win-ning performances in a rockingchair, but may I just point outthat being gargled at doesn’t getus to sleep any quicker?

Like, last night, Old-Means-Well was in charge of makingme go to sleep. Now she fits intothe can-manage-the-Alphabet-song-decently school of singing

This is nice.

Being able to sit up after allthat lying around.

Seeing all you guys in Big-Folk’s Land right side up, so tospeak.

Thanks for listening, by theway.

Us Little-Folk …..we don’tget too much of that.

We get a lot of Talking-At,though.

Let you in on a little-knownLittle-Folk secret?

Being baby-talked at can geta tad tedious after awhile….sometimes downrightdreadful.

See – baby-talk is a skill. Ifyou don’t have it, don’t try it.

The other day, at one ofthose let’s-get-all-the-babies-together gatherings Big-Folkseem to love (don’t understandwhy, because the super-highlevels of tension and exhaustionon all adult faces are soobvious)….anyway, at one ofsaid gatherings, a misguided fewinsisted on baby-talk.

One lady, with absolutely noprior warning, hit such a highfalsetto with a little one in pink,she nearly shattered my sippycup; while a venerable oldgentleman endowed with largegrey whiskers, and a gravelly

� by

Ranjitha Ashok

– which is fine. (Incidentally,these former convent-educatedtypes who’ve morphed intograndparental roles are the fun-niest.)

For some strange reason, shechose the brisk ‘Sing a song ofsixpence’ ….starting on an im-possibly high scale, whichmerely meant she came to griefwhen she got to ‘….set beforethe KING!’

No – didn’t quite reach theKing at all.

(You just tried that in yourhead, didn’t you?!!)

So, after a bit of choking andcoughing, she starts, again, forsome unfathomable reason,with ‘Old King Cole’….on sucha low, deep note, she soundslike a Pit bull with the worst in-tentions, at which point, havingscared both me and herself intoshocked silence, she abandonsthe notion of singing altogether,and chooses to intone simplelittle nonsense sounds instead.

Which brings up anotherpoint.

Words.

Very important you remem-ber them.

You can’t expect the littleone in question to lie still witheyes closed while you argue withyourself what the next lineshould be, stopping halfway,and starting again at some otherpoint in the song.

Speaking of grandparents,we’ve been hearing a lot ofchatter about how this role ap-pears to have been re-definedover the years….look-attitude-expectation-wise.

And why not? No need to gointo some sort of pre-conceived‘costume’. But this does throwup some issues that were non-existent a few decades ago.

Like – the slinky look pairedwith carrying one of us justdoesn’t work.

We slither all over; you guysare all over the place….wholelot of slip-sliding going on.

Please note: If you wearglossy, chunky, swingy long ear-rings – we will attack.

So, when on baby-duty –‘practical’ is a good way to go,even in these organic-diet/bonded-hair/daily-work-out/young-forever times.

Which have changed, yes –but some things haven’t.

Like – never underestimateus Little Folk. Trying to cun-ningly slip tiny bits of Baby-Food-21st-Century into open

mouths by ‘hiding’ them in aspoonful of acceptable mushwill be seen as an open declara-tion of hostilities, and will betreated as such.

Which really means you’llend up wearing the food in yourhair.

If you feel cold, get a shawl.Putting three layers on us in-stead merely leads to confron-tation, and regrettable bumpson communication highways…more red, sleep-deprived eyes,and general irritability.

Dressing us up, changing us,or dressing us down for bedneedn’t be a frantic battle, youknow. Look, if you pull an out-fit over our heads, trap our facesinside, and then start lookingfor the sleeve – and our arms –there will be repercussions.

(Continued on page 8)

(Continued from page 1)

8 MADRAS MUSINGS February 16-28, 2017

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The scholarly sportswriterThere is this first meeting

with Nirmal Shekar ofwhich I still have vivid recollec-tions. And then there is this lastmeeting with him which willalso live in memory for long.

We first met at the old in-door stadium near the NehruStadium in 1980, shortly afterhe had joined The Hindu as asports reporter. I was with theIndian Express and it was a localtable tennis tournament. Oneof the players, R Ramachan-dran, came up to me and askedwhether I had met the new re-porter from The Hindu. I said Ihadn’t. Ramachandran excit-edly said, “He is very tall, andhas a lot of hair on his head andso he stands out in a crowd”.Minutes later I was introducedto him and thus started a friend-ship that was to last 36 years.

By the mid-1980s Nirmalhad succeeded T Govindarajan,popularly known as ‘TG’, asfootball and tennis writer forthe newspaper. This was noeasy task, for ‘TG’ was one ofthe finest sportswriters of histime. A guru to many young-sters, including me, TG, whowas on the verge of retirement,was at first unsure whether thisscholarly “young upstart” wasup to the task, a view shared bymany in the profession. ButNirmal worked his way upthrough the age-old qualities ofhard work, natural talent andbeing a knowledgeable writer.His considerable and eclecticreading made his writing differ-ent.

By the time TG retired in thelate 1980s, Nirmal had firmlyestablished himself as one of theleading young sportswriterswith his ability to write on al-

most every sport, though tenniswas always his first love.Recognising his talent, even aconservative newspaper likeThe Hindu gave him the bigbreaks early and, in 1986Nirmal covered his first Wim-bledon, the Mecca of Tennis.He was to do this for more than25 years in a row.

In 2003 Nirmal became theSports Editor of The Hindu andquestions were raised as to hisability to be in charge of a highprofile department, fulfill hismanifold administrative dutiesand still churn out good copy.He did manage the dual role butat heart he was first and fore-most a writer. His new dutiesmeant that his columns becamefewer, though readers still look-ed forward to his reports fromWimbledon. Of course, heregularly covered the DavisCup matches and could give fullrein to his colourful and know-ledgeable writing, for India was

then in the prestigious WorldGroup and Nirmal described inglowing terms the performancesof Vijay Amritraj, Ramesh Kri-shnan and Leander Paes, nota-bly in the 1987 semi-final agai-nst Australia in Sydney, thefinal the same year against Swe-den in Goteborg, and the sensa-tional upset registered by Indiaagainst France in Frejus in1993.

Nirmal had his detractorswho described his language as“too flowery and pedantic”showing off with words andquoting from writers, few of hisreaders knew. There were alsotimes when he seemed to havehit a plateau and some of hisphrases were repetitive. Butthere is no denying the fact thathe touched a chord with hisreaders and was widely followedin the country. He was excep-tionally well read. Quite oftenhe would be seen seriously read-ing material about philosophy,

literature or economics. Nowand then he would quote fromthese books to drive home asporting point when it came towriting of the greatness of Aliand Pele, Federer and Bradman.His approach to writing wasspelt out in an interview someyears ago when he said ̀ `I don’trestrict myself to sports but tryand bring in a life’s perspective;try understanding the psychol-ogy of sports and fit sports intothe wider context rather thanstick to the backhands and thecover drives alone.’’

Nirmal retired from TheHindu in September 2015 butretained his ties with the news-paper as a columnist besides be-ing part of the visiting faculty atthe Asian College of Journal-ism. I had in the meanwhile re-tired from the profession, butwe remained in touch throughphone and the occasional get-together at the Madras CricketClub.

And now to the last meeting,though at the time how could Iknow that it would be the last?It was at the K S NarayananOration at the Taj Coromandel.We were meeting after a longtime. Naturally the talk wasmostly about the Federer–Nadal duel at the AustralianOpen the previous day. At 60he had lost none of his enthusi-asm for the sport which was hisfavourite. Forty-eight hourslater he was no more and that isthe main reason why that lastmeeting will live in memory foras long as I live.

Nirmal Shekar.

� Partab Ramchand recalls...

The view from the high chair(Continued from page 7)

Ear-shattering ones.

Socks…… actually, we cankeep both on, you know. Wejust get a kick out of the expres-sion on your faces, when youthink you’ve got us dressed andready, only to find we’ve man-aged to get ourselves de-sockedagain.

Priceless!

It’s even funnier if our targetis from the grandparent-zone –especially since they are a few

decades out of practice, andhaving forgotten to put on theirglasses, have only a vague ideawhere our limbs are.

One more secret?

We do recognise authority;just as we know whom we canbully.

One timorous tremble whenyou pick us up – and we knowwe have you where we wantyou.

Remember - never showfear.

But you know what?

We Little-Folk, we realiseyou guys, (well, most of you,anyway), come from a goodplace.

That’s why we accept yourtheories. (The Really-Really-Older-Big-Folk still around arepretty scathing about those, bythe way.) Your clumsiness, yourhesitancies, and general air ofgenuine cluelessness, with well-deserved compassion.

We just need to put ourpudgy feet down firmly some-

times, just to maintain disci-pline in the home.

Could you pick up TeddyTeething Ring for me, please?

Yes, I know I’ll merely flingit down again – but hey, look atit this way.

All that stooping andstraightening keeps you supple.

So don’t worry.

We’ll be gentle.

And we’ll aim for mutualharmony – till we get our wordsin place.

After that…..!!!!