Traffic Blue(s)tooth

What is the connection between the blue tooth mobiles has got to do with the domestic violence of the traffic cops ?
Read on.

Everyday a little over 16 million city dwellers use the Chennai roads scrubbing the Dunlops and MRFs in about 3400 government run buses and about 2.4 million two-wheelers and four-wheelers (supposed to have been a little over a lac in 1984) trying to the wear away the feebly held tar.

And there are about 1.2 million blue tooth enabled mobiles. And continues to swell, thanks to the aggressively poised DOT.

And currently we could be only thankful for the FM channels for providing the info on the traffic congestions in the various parts of the city. Most of them are accurate; save for two issues – they are made available to me when I am at home or are about an arterial which will not take me to my destination.

Now comes the fantastic idea !! (humility is present more in my diction.. but exceptions are there!!)

Divide the city into 2 KM grids and each of the grid will have a blue tooth enabled transmitter capable of transmitting to the mobiles which enters and stays in the grid. And each of the roads in a grid leads to a fewer options of other roads or locations. Hence the message transmitted to the recipient can be specific (see picture)

For example for a vehicle in the grid at the Saidapet Junction, depending on which road is clogged the blue tooth can shoot a message to the mobile station crossing the grid… rather in one of the roads in the grid.

If the North Usman is clogged then the message to those on the Saidapet grid can be
“Vehicles going towards T Nagar can take the Venkata Narayana Road since the North Usman Road is jammed.”
And those on GN Chetty Road can be,
“Vehicles going towards Saidapet can take the Venkata Narayana Road since the North Usman Road is jammed”
Or if the Beach Road at Santhome is jammed then the message to those on the Adyar grid can be
“Vehicles proceeding to Parrys can take the Kotturpuram Road-Alwarpet-Anna Salai to Parrys. Santhome Hgh Road is jammed”

Typically Chennai needs to be covered by 2KM by 2KM grids broadly and in line with arterial flow of the traffic. It would utmost take about 70-80 such Bluetooth transmission stations each costing about Rs20000-25000, including the 20% cut the supplier has to provision for tipping the Kazhaga Kanmanigal.

And making a specially designed recipient device which can a part of the console in the car or the two-wheeler should be an added innovation. (And thereby I have saved myself from becoming the reason for the accidents caused by the reading-while-driving and therefore the domestic violence at the cops residences!!)

And the sons and the daughters will start welcoming smiling fathers home!!!

Didn’t I tell you that I should have been the state transport minister!!!

Rayar Mess

If you are in the vicinity of Mylapore and manage to give the Karpagambal mess and the Luz Vasanth Bhavan a miss, then you can try out the Rayar mess.

Enter the Luz Church Road from the Luz corner end and stroll down for a about half a KM, on the left side of the road you would find the Arundale Street.

If you are lucky you would be able to park the car in the Luz Church Road and if you are luckier you would able to insert your car in one of the slots in Arundale Street itself. But if you not too sure of luck being on your side lately, take your bike.

As you enter the Arundale street and proceed towards the other end of the street and you would see a Pillayar temple. And the Rayars are at the mid-section of this road and it would be an easy guess for any to know that you are there for having your breakfast or the evening snacks at the mess, if you are cruising along the street. Perhaps the mess visitors are the only people who test the tranquility of the place which is otherwise quite a sober street.

The mess is managed by the brothers - Kumar Anna and Mohan Anna; the former is usually at the kitchen dishing out the menu items. Kumar is the younger one of the two and is the wholesome entertainer of the visitors fulfilling the 16 customers, which is the maximum seating capacity of the mess. The mess had been handed over to these siblings by their father albeit they had moved from their earlier location at Kutchery road about 5 years back.

The mess is open on all days, at two time slots: 7AM to 10 AM for the breakfast and for the evening snacks between 3 pm to 6 pm. Mohan Anna quips neatly when enquired about the timings “Remember two 3 hours anna… 3 in the morning and 3 in the evening”. Forgot to check whether he was a native of Coimbatore, for ‘anna’ was included in every single statement of his.

The menu on board was mouth watering. One would get Adai aviyal, Idlis, Dosas, Pongal and Medhu vadai. with the sidees of idli-mulagapodi with gingley oil, getti chutney, kara-chutney, running-chutney, sambar. Don’t be surprised at the lavish spread of ghee for the Adai or the Idlis. Carry your water or ask for bottled one.

And be prepared to have the ‘coffee in the corridor’ if you need to vacate the table because of the customers waiting for their turn. And the coffee is prepared strong; so warn the waiter if your preference is a lighter one.
And if waiting for your turn is little testing, then pick up your parcel and carry it home.

The idlis and the vadai was pretty good with the mulaga podi. Not the same case with the sambar. The getti chutney could compensate for the not-so-great sambar. Breakfast for two, consisting of 7 idlies, 4 vadais, 3 portions of the idli-mulagapodi and 2 coffees costed Rs 76. Not costly, but does not come very cheap either; still worth trying.

My rating of the place :
Menu spread: Good for breakfast or a evening snacks
Price: Not expensive
Hygiene: Can be improved
Parking: You ought to be lucky with a four wheeler; Take your two-wheeler
Overall rating: Good (hmmm… little broadminded, I am)

என் விதை

எங்கோ படித்தது. . . பாலகுமாரன் என்று நினைக்கிறேன். . .
“காதலித்த பெண்ணை மறப்பது மரணத்திற்கு சமமானது. . .மரணம் நிஜம் என்று ஏற்றுக்கொள்பவனால் மட்டுமே காதல் துயரத்தையும் தாங்கிகொள்ளமுடியும். . .என்ன தாங்கினாலும் ஒரு மரம் வேரோடு பெயர்ந்துபோல் ஆழமான பள்ளம் தோன்றிடும். . .மெல்ல கால மண் மூடி அந்த பள்ளமும் மறையும்.”

And the following was the first poem I wrote for my wife, when she was not.

எனக்கென நிழல் வேண்டி
ஆழ நிலம் கீறி
தரமாய் ஒரு விதை
பதமாய் நட்டு வைத்தேன்.
கைபுனல் நீர்வார்த்து
காவலாய் நான் இருந்தேன்.
முளைவிட்டு விதை வளர
உரமிட்டு காத்திருந்தேன்.
விருட்சமாக வளர்ந்திடவே
மழை வேண்டி நோன்பிருந்தேன்.
இடியும் மின்னலும்
இறைவன் ஒரு நாள்
மழையினூடே அனுப்பி வைத்தான்.
மண் புரண்டிடநட்டு வைத்த விதையை
கண் முன்னே ஏமாற்றி
வாரி சென்றது வெள்ளம்.
அரண்டு புரண்டு
தூரம் சென்றும் மறைந்தது.
அதன் பின்னே எனக்கென
எதையும் நான் நட்டதில்லை.
எனக்கொன்றும் வருத்தமில்லை.
நான் தொலைத்த விதை
எங்காவது நிலம் ஊன்றியிருக்கும்.
என் பெயர் சொல்லாது
எவருக்காவது நிழல் தந்திருக்கும்.
போகிற வழியெல்லாம்
கண்ணிற்படுகிற மரத்திற் கெல்லாம்
ஒரு பிடி நீரை
நின்று நான் வார்த்திடுவேன்.
என் விதையின் விருட்ச்சமாயின்
எனை பார்த்து தலையசைக்கும்
என்ற நம்பிக்கை எனக்குண்டு.

பெண்

Some events in life leaves behind dots which are indelible and heavy...

One such event is to witness a girl attain puberty in one of those middle-class families in the country...
இனித்திடும் மழைச்சாரல்
ஆனந்தமான பாண்டி
பயந்தோடும் ஆட்டுக்குட்டி
முழங்கால் ஆற்றுத்தண்ணீர்
முடிவில்லா பல்லாங்குழி
முடிந்து போனது ஒரே நொடியில்
மூன்று நாள் இயற்ச்சதியால்.
இன்பமான பயம் கவ்வ
புரியாத புதிரானேன்.
அலட்டல் ஆர்பாட்டங்கள்
அழுகை தோரணங்கள்.
புத்தம் புத்தாடைகள்
அதிலும் அழுக்குகள்
மனதின் அழியா வடுக்கள்.
கேள்வி கேட்டேன் பதிலில்லை.
கிடைத்த பதில் புரியவில்லை.
இவை எதற்க்கென்று நச்சரிக்க
எல்லாம் உனக்காகத்தான் என்றனர்.
இது மங்கலமா அமங்கலமா
அன்னையும் உதவவில்லை
அகராதியும் உதவவில்லை.
ஆளுக்கொரு சுவரெழுப்ப
நடுவிலே வீசப்பட்டேன்.
வாசல்தனை தேடி தேடி
வட்டங்கள் பல போட்டேன்.
என் நிழலை நான் கண்டு
வெகு நாளாகி போனது.
முடிவில்லா வட்டங்கள்
தீடீரென நேர் கோடாகி
முடிவிலே புள்ளியாக
உடமையோடு உடமையானேன்.
புது வாழ்வு வந்ததென்று
சுதந்திரத்தை பாடி நிற்க
வாரி எடுத்து கலையப்பட்டேன்.
உமிழ் நீரால் கழுவப்பட்டேன்.
மெல்ல மெல்ல புரிந்து போனது
இவர்களுக்கு பெண்னென்பவள்
ஒரு துவாரம் மட்டுமே.

Thoughtless body

What would be your first thought when you see a well-endowed teenage girl sitting across the table, stretching her arms towards the sky, with the fingers of both arms entwined to form an arch, flexing her body in a yawn?

This time, I pitied.

I pitied out of the realization that the unconscious emboldening which had made her oblivious to her surroundings was going to be short-lived. Over the period of the next few years or months or even a few weeks, time and experience will scrape off the last remnants of this innocence from her. Very shortly, she will learn that not always will the person sitting opposite her take his eyes away hastily, moving away and engaging in some philosophical indulgence. I am sure I never indulged thus before.

My pity was perhaps more out of my own predicaments of the past, balancing my thoughtless body and its watchful surroundings.

I wonder when was the last time I sat bare-chested, at ease, for more than ten minutes at a stretch, watching the television at home, at peace, undisturbed by the call of the doorbell, at whose stroke my wife would scramble to pick up a rag for me to make me ‘decent’. Apparently, I was never able to convince her that this carefree bare-lazing, at least within my own house, was my freedom in my own sense. Somehow, I feel the EMIs paid are giving me increasingly lesser value of freedom.

I wonder when was the last time I warmly hugged a friend, giving a damn about the fact that he was male, or even female. I don’t remember. I wonder when was the last time I held someone’s hand while talking to him or her. Long gone are those carefree days of thoughtless indulgence.

The body has become thoughtful.

Terrorism - Evolution of Corruption

“They should shoot them at their legs first and injure them, so that they can be captured. Then we should prick their eyes with pins till they tell us who is behind these attacks. Had I been there, I will do this”.

These were the gruesome and fire-spewing words uttered by a person who watching the Mumbai terrorist attack report on the television. They were from a heart, fumigated to remove the last traces rationality or kindness.

It would be the interesting to note the real-life role of this person – a seedha sadha middle-class home maker, who wakes up her husband in the middle of a night to save her from a cockroach which had managed to get into the bedroom, quite popular amongst her colony peers for her sweet smiling face.

On the other hand, these words could be a representative sample of the unrepentant hatred expressed by most of the citizens of this country when they saw the television visuals of the Taj and Oberoi Hotel attack, quite haplessly. It is the helplessness than anything else which had caused the outburst and the clenching of the fingers in the drawing rooms of the Indians. We were angry at the ineptitude; shaken by our insecure living conditions; our heart bleeding for those innocent country-men who life had been changed course forever, for the worst.

But why did we expect this not to happen? Why is the turn of events so surprising to us now?

I remember a NDTV news report, telecast a few years after the Mumbai ‘93 blasts, on a covert operation they carried out much akin to the methodology adopted by the Mumbai blast terrorists. The NDTV crew tested the alertness of the city security system, by smuggling in some carton boxes (presumably the same size and weight which was brought in by the terrorists, laden with the RDX used for the blasts) and travelled the same sea, land and road route, as the terrorists. The television crew had practically no problem in transporting the empty cartons all the way long from the high seas to the center of the city of Mumbai!!!

Thank God that the NDTV’s cartons were empty but the operation slapped on the face of the administration exposing the interest and commitment of our elected political masters and the State in protecting its citizen.

In the aftermath of a terrorist strike, it is customary for the politicians and authorities in chorus, elucidating the findings of the investigations and the context would be mostly international terrorism. These sermons would discuss ramifications of international terrorism and most of the contextual cross-references will pass over the head of the commoners like us.

The tools of terrorism are perhaps imported; but not its doers or its enablers.

In all the terrorist strikes of the past, perhaps with the exception of the ones in Kashmir, there was always a local support received – directly or indirectly. No person could have smuggled such huge loads of the RDX without the blessings of those who control and use those points of sea or land entry for the various nefarious other activities. And none of these elements can thrive without the full blessings of the political masters of this country.

It is very difficult to believe that these shipments, movements and the subsequent doings can happen without blessings of the local unsocial elements who have deep connections with the politicians of this country. The chances are very remote that these anti-national anti-people actions are not known to those corrupt power centers in advance.

We have seen time and again the misuse of the position and privileges, the political class enjoys in this country and the ramifications of their over zeal to plunder the country and amass wealth for themselves. It is these elements in the high echelons of power which are the core reason for these terrorist strikes.

Corruption in public life is the root of all these evils this country continues to suffer for long time.

And terrorism is perhaps the highest evolution of this evil. Corruption is the fountainhead of terrorism.

Fighting corruption and its propagators would be the do-able part where each and every one of us can make a difference.