Selective Amnesia There was a point to this. But I forgot.

Renault Fluence

Oh, Law & Kenneth. What a wonderful, wonderful example you make. An example I particularly like to point at. And laugh derisively.
Such lazy, tepid, uninspired copywriting I haven’t come across. Fellini 1954. Post-Modern, 1978. Post-Modern.
Brilliant. Thank you!

What’s on my plate

At a Tamil wedding in Madras.

• Rumali Roti


• Paneer Butter Masala (salted heavily, enough to float the Dead Sea)


• Cutlets from Potato (fried so deep, they had to scuba dive to get it out. And a chisel to pierce the crust)


• Oothappam, smaller in size than the Vadais you get at Saravana Bhavan


• Insipid Coconut chutney, for said Oothappam


• Something Magenta and sweet


• Three florets of a Cauliflower Manchuri type thing


• Potato curry, not too badly done.


• Jamun


• Onion, Cucumber and Carrot raitha


• Soggy Pappadam (not AppaLam)


• Something that passed for a mixture


• Premixed Sambar rice, half a decent serving


• Premixed Curd rice, ditto


• Cut Mango pickle

And then they say Madras is not a cosmopolitan city.

The fortieth Chennai PhotoWalk and the Second Chennai Reporter’s Beat

Now that the hottest months are behind us, the clouds have come out and the daily breeze (good name for a newspaper, there) is cooler and fresher, I deem it safe for a walk. So, once again, the streets of Madras shall bear witness to our combined soles. And souls.

This month, June 2011, we shall hit two mangoes with one stone (especially since we are drawing to the close of the fruit’s season) and cover the PhotoWalk and the Reporter’s Beat in one fell swoop.
So, drum rolls, please.

Day: Sunday, 19th June 2011
When: 7 A.M
Where: Brodie’s Castle, otherwise known as Government College of Music, Greenway’s Road.
Route: Brodie’s Castle – Greenway’s Road – D’Monte Colony (TTK Road end)

For those not in the know, or those in the know-but-forgot, Brodie’s Castle was a large, well, castle-like home of, well, Mr. Brodie, on the banks of the Adayar river where it met the sea. As was custom, large houses with prominent residents warranted roads leading up to said large house, and so Mr. Brodie and his castle gave name to the road that led to them from the Fort. Which name survives in only two houses now in Madras. Both houses are, as these things go, houses of prominent Madras people long since dead. And, again as these things go, the houses are in Mylapore.
The road – Brodie’s Castle Road became RK Mutt Road, the castle became the Govt. College of Music, Adayar became clogged and the islands on its estuary became houses for Chettiars. And that’s where we will walk, this Sunday the 19th June 2011.

As always, bring camera, phone camera or no camera. Bring a notepad or twenty. But, bring yourself. And friends.
RSVPs etc at the usual place.

I heard it on the Radio.

Reactions to a couple of podcasts this last week.

One from the BBC History Magazine. It says that the privateer Captain William Kidd was innocent of the crimes he was accused of. And wrongly hanged.
Poor Kidd.
This goes to prove that kids these days have it easy. They aren’t hanged. More puns present themselves. Some harsh. I shall handle it with Kidd gloves.

The other is from PRI’s Studio 360-Design for the Real World.
It talks of a redesign for the popular game Monopoly. The contention is that the world of Capitalism has changed much, and that trade etc these days aren’t as they used to be. So, kids need better training in business, trade, commerce and monopolistic practices.

India didn’t have a game for trade (and hence established that we were spiritual, not religious, people existing on a plane above crass material possessions.) but we did give the world Chess. A game of high power, politics and kingship. Perhaps it is time for us to redesign our game. To take in new, welcome practices in the profession of politics. No more mere Queens and Kings and Pawns on a square board. I propose our first move should be to include a new rank of chessmen – #CivilSociety.
I am afraid these guys will do nothing in a game, cannot be moved, and will get in the way of other chessmen around them. But boy, won’t the game be that much more interesting?

Dear Dr. J Jayalalitha

I know this comes late, but congratulations on a landslide victory. And, best wishes. You’ve set upon yourself the task of cleaning up the state and putting things right. Commendable.
And, I know this is a sensitive subject, and I really don’t know all of the wheels and cogs in play, but I would like to talk to you about the new building for the Tamil Nadu Legislature. You know, that massive, spanking new building on Government Estate, Mount Road.
It’s no Fort St. George, I agree. But it is a great building. Unlike most people in my city, I think this is actually a good looking building. And quite impressive. A city like Madras, Chennai, needs a shot in the arm architecture wise. And I think this new Assembly building is just what the doctor ordered. It’s, honestly speaking, a lot like the new Welsh Parliament building in Cardiff Bay.

I am sure, when it is fully constructed, fitted out, and all the bells, whistles and frills are put in, the new Assembly building may even give other modern structures a run for their money.

However, I understand your current reservations about not moving your government into it.

I agree that it doesn’t make sense to have one half of your ministerial college here, and another half in Fort St. George. I understand and agree that it makes zero sense in having your ministers in the Fort and their support staff in the new building (although, frankly, it’s such an easily solved problems in this day and age. Internet, high-speed cables, video conferencing, Mobile phones on CUG, etc. And not to mention, the distance between the two buildings are laughably short.) when there are pressing issues to solve.

So, while I may not like your decision to move into Fort St. George, I will shrug and let it go. (Not that my view on this matters at all.)
But, but, please, do not let this beautiful new building – the Assembly building in Government Estate – become an overpriced storage area.
I’ve heard rumours over the last week and half – rumours that are frightening – that allege, variously, that the building will be a vegetable warehouse, a granary, and or an empty building on rent to filmmakers.

Are we, in 2011, living in such a poor state? Does Tamil Nadu really need a granary any more?

What Tamil Nadu, Madras especially, needs is a centre for cultural engagement. A centre where the people can engage the things that make up their culture and, importantly, debate those. What Madras needs is a prestigious, prominent, public venue for the arts, performance, history and culture. What Madras needs is a Museum. A museum that, in the words of Lewis Mumford is “the most typical institution of the metropolis”.

Imagine. Monthly concerts. Of the Indian tradition, or the western. Classic music. Rock. Jazz.
Imagine. Performances. Dances, plays, experimental theatre, improv.
Imagine. A permanent museum taking people through the different ages of Tamil and Tamil Nadu, of Madras.
Imagine. Art shows, paintings, photography, sculpture, films.
And now imagine. All of this, in one place right smack in the middle of the city.
Imagine. A superb backdrop to announce your schemes to bring some fresh blood to the film industry.
Imagine. A great setting for press conferences.
Imagine. Something to show off to the world. Another Madras gift, like the cotton that bears the city’s name.
Imagine. People coming in and out, photographing each other, themselves in and around this building, sharing them on flickr, facebook and twitter. Another landmark in Madras, and a welcome relief from the Napier bridge. (Beautiful as it is, it is now a cliche)

Please, please. Madras needs a centre of the caliber that the new Assembly promises. Do not let it be a large fridge.

C

Pallava, Chola, Vijayanagara styles.

I suppose I (with loads of help from the experts) could do a similar thing for temples in Madras/TN.
The problem is that temple history is less about the structure and more about the tradition. Still, I think I can start somewhere.

Dear N. Ram, N. Ravi and The Hindu

It’s time that my paper went back to its roots. It’s time the Iyers took back control of the paper.

Sincerely,

Chandrachoodan “Iyer” Gopalakrishnan