Delhi's Madrasis

   Till about the early sixties, New Delhi was just a central government city, except for a few corporate offices along Ramlila Maidan from Delhi Gate to Ajmeri Gate, a stretch of about a mile and half long road called Asaf Ali Road, and some shops big and small in Connaught Place and Karol Bagh. The inhabitants of the city were mostly government servants living in government quarters located within in a circle of about two miles radius from Gole Market. The high ranking Government servants like Secretaries, Joint Secretaries etc.  Lived in aristocratic bungalows in Lodi Estate, Queen Mary’s Road, Aurangazeb Road, Ashoka Road etc. while lesser rank officers like superintendents etc.  lived in smaller bungalows  on Talkatora Road, Mahadeo Road, Baird Road etc.   Low ranked officials like Assistants and Stenographers lived in smaller quarters consisting of an open veranda in the front, a small front room, one or two bed rooms, a store room and kitchen. The latrine in most quarters was away from the living rooms and kitchen at the end of a court yard at the rear side.

    The quarters were in blocks called “Squares” named after British monarchs and  viceroys  like Edward Square, Hastings Square, Cornwallis Square, etc. with an occasional Indian name like Ganesh Place, Ranjit Place. The difference between a Square and a Place lay in their shape; the Sqaure had four rows of quarters, one each on its four sides while the Place had quarters only on three sides, the fourth side being the boundary road, like Reading Road (now renamed as Mandir Marg). What intrigued us as children was that the squares were mostly rectangular , two long parallel rows of quarters  on two opposite sides and two short  parallel rows on the other two opposite sides

     In this great city there lived the “Madrasis”- a collective noun invented by the North Indians for all people who came from the south of the Vindhyas. Almost all of them were government servants with some essential service providers like school and music teachers, vadhyars (religious pundits0 and cooks. With many Subramanians and Ganesans, distinction was made either with reference to the Ministry where they worked or in the Square where they lived, like Finance Subramanian, Defence Ganesan or Wilson Square Ramasubban and Lawrence Square Sivaramakrishnan. If two Sethuramans were in the same Finance ministry, then the distinction was based on the Wing/ department, such as Expenditure Sethuraman versus Controller of Capital Sethuraman.  Another distinctive clue was their pass time or leisure activities like Bhajana Samaj Krishnan or Karnataka Sangeetha Sabha Ramamurthy and these persons had high titles like Additional Secretary, Joint Secretary Etc. in their respective organisations... And in addition, there were also nick names given and recognised by the whole community like Bonda Srinivasan, Typhoid Krishnamurthy, and Driver Devarajan and so on.

    When it came to their career in government, all Madrasis earned the unenviable reputation as honest, sincere, hard- working, efficient and with absolute integrity. The price that was paid for such appreciation of work was the neglect of leisure time happiness on holidays with family and friends. Many of them would have spent decades living in Delhi but not had had time to v see the Kutb Minar, the  Red Fort,  Purana Kila and other historical monuments which abound in Delhi .Their Annual Confidential Reports grading them as “Outstanding” were confidentially and individually leaked to them by their superior officers. They would then confidentially tell their wives! There was this joke about a Madrasi junior officer once getting reported by his senior Punjabi officer that he (the Madrasi) often “slept in office” - a remark considered as adverse in his annual confidential report. When he remonstrated to the senior officer about this, the latter told him that he wanted to highlight the fact that on several days the Madrasi officer had worked very late hours in the office almost till the early hours of the next morning and was thus compelled to sleep in the office itself in the absence of a bus to go home at that hour. ! Similarly another Madrasi officer’s work was graded as “far from satisfactory” by his senior Bengali officer. He later explained saying that the work of the junior was exceptionally good and the grading category “satisfactory” did not adequately describe the quality of work which was several notches high!!

     The institutions that united them were The South India Club, The Madrasi  School, The Karnatak Sangeetha Sabha, The Vaishnava Siddhantha Sabbha, The Saturday Bhajana Sabhas, The Navaratri Golus and of course the Irwin Road Pilliar  Koil and the adjacent Hanuman Mandir and the Baird Road Kali Koil. Apart from mutual family visits, inter family communication was through the Tamil Vadhyar group to which the families belonged when a Sastrigal of that group came to announce the important religious events of the month and collect monthly subscription. Integration with other communities was next to nothing for most of the Madrasis although they collectively enjoyed the confidence of the Punjabi grocers, clothiers and other shopkeepers who gave them credit facility liberally without a question The Madrasis however privately made fun of the Punjabis’ English pronunciation like    meyerment for measurement, lier for lawyer as well as bad grammar like “Mehra don’t even Know English”.   Little did they know as to how many times the Punjabi traders took advantage of the Madrasis ‘confusion between “Dhed” (one and a half) and “Adhai” (two and a half).

    Among the uniting institutions mentioned above, the Madrasi School occupied a predominant position as it was here that the children of all Madrasis irrespective of the status of the parents, whether a Joint Secretary or an Upper Division Clerk, or the child of a Sastrigal or a cook, came for studies. Those were days of no dress code or uniforms and yet all children studied in an environment of equality and fraternity .The teachers,  both male and female, were exceptionally devoted to their profession, took  avuncular interest in each student  and were  kind hearted . Till the fifties there was only one school at Reading Road. Even when there was no bar for students from other regions or linguistic groups for admission, the Madrasi School remained exclusively a Tamil school. Ironically, when it became a multi branch Tamil school in its name in the sixties, called The Delhi Tamil Education Association School (DTEA), it has now both students and teachers form other parts of the country.

  

     The Madrasis were a powerful group in the Central Secretariat. Their network was strongly knit and mutually helpful. Any special treatment or facility in AIIMS, Safdarjung and other government hospitals were arranged by the Madrasi Jt. Secretary, in Health Ministry, while his counter- part in Civil Supplies Department took care of additional allotment of sugar and maida for weddings. Acquiring of land and construction of the many temples in the sixties and seventies in New Delhi was mainly because of the initiative and strength of this group which at one time had the Hon’ble President of India as Patron. . Even the introduction of Leave Travel Concession for visiting home towns by Central Government Servants and their families was said to be the brainchild of some Madrasis in the Home and Finance Ministries. They quietly introduced the main condition that the home town should be at least 400 kms away from Headquarters so as to benefit the South Indian employees!   Not only did the Northerners feel  jealous, the Punjabi booking clerk oh the Northern Railway felt further injured as he had to book the onward journey to a home town like Kattumannarkovil  by the shortest route and had no clue as to which of the two routes from Madras Egmore, the chord line or the  main line, was shorter. 

     Most of these Madrasis have retired by now.  Many continue to live in Delhi in DDA and other housing colonies in the faraway Dhwarka and Mayur Vihar and their post- retirement activities and interest are confined to within these areas mainly centring the local temple.  Some of their sons and daughters, the next generation Delhi’s Madrasis, took the Madrasi School – St. Stephen’s College route to qualify for induction into the All India Services and other Allied Services while others have become doctors, engineers, lawyers and accountants. The Old Students   Association of DTEA Schools with branches in Chennai and Bangalore is their social network apart from Facebook.

We Are Like That Only

The HUDHUD has gone leaving devastation behind in coastal Andhra and Odisha. Vishakhapatnam has been worst affected with telephone , internet connectivity and electricity all cut off, nearly all trees uprooted, buildings blown over, crops and cattle dead and thousands rendered homeless. The authorities are doing their best in relief and rescue operations and to restore all utilities and services affected and bring normalcy as early as possible. Thanks to our improved forewarning system of typhoons and cyclones and the government’s preparedness for evacuating thousands of people to safe buildings and the role of agencies like Disaster Management groups, the casualty has been only 29 persons, tragic still as it is. Let us wish the people of Vishakhapatnam God- speed rehabilitation .But have they responded to this calamity with a sense of endurance and virtuous behaviour? Read what a TV Channel has to say about the situation in Vishakhapatnam two days after the Hudhud.

“As Visakhapatnam tries to limp back to normalcy after the destruction caused by Cyclone Hudhud, there is a mad scramble for food, water and fuel in the affected areas. The situation is tense with people stopping trucks, mobbing relief officers and looting supplies.

The police have been resorting to lathi charge to disperse the mob. The city is facing acute shortage of water, food, fuel and other essentials.

Shortage of supplies have caused the prices of essential commodities to skyrocket with essentials like a bottle of water being sold for Rs 250 and a packet of milk for Rs 100. Power and communication networks are also down in many places.

"The prices are so high that common people can't afford things. The government is not providing all facilities," a Visakhapatnam resident said.

"The current supply has been given to dairy farms and the essentials. The government is trying hard to help. But it will take time to recover," another resident said.

Long lines are being seen at petrol pumps in Visakhapatnam. "So many petrol pumps are closed. They are covered in the black market actually," a resident claimed.

Much of the work of the NDRF teams is focused on trying to clear the roads so that essential supplies can come in. Long queues are also being seen at ATM booths and milk booths.
Amidst the chaotic scenes, Prime Minister Narendra Modi will visit Visakhapatnam to take stock of the situation on Tuesday afternoon. The Vizag airport has been reopened for relief operations but the city and 12 districts in Andhra Pradesh remain in darkness. 26 people have lost their lives in Andhra Pradesh and three have been reported dead in Odisha.”

What a low level has mankind sunk to in this hour of great challenge to its sense of forbearance, tolerance, sharing, mutual help and compassion. People are looting the relief materials meant for equitable distribution. Police is controlling unruly mobs instead of guarding the property whatever the cyclone has left behind. Our great retailers are missing no opportunity to profiteer instead of showing normal trade “dharma” of selling at normal prices till stocks last. And the public, starving and roofless, is beating their breasts and crying that authorities are not doing enough and soon.

As Indians we will never learn to calm and compose ourselves whether it is a natural calamity or a man –made event like the arrest of a leader. For, we cannot then get away with it saying that “we are like that only”

The Transformational Journey of N K V

Nacchhiarkovil Krishnamachar Venkatavaradan (NKV to friends) was how the letter from UPSC mentioned his name informing him of his appointment as Assistant in the Ministry of Commerce, Government of India and asking him to report for duty within a week. The Punjabi typist who typed his name in that letter mouthed the usual curse. When SKV received the letter, his joy sky rocketed, for he alone knew the hard preparation he had to make for the tough competitive examination. He was also happy because his high all India rank has earned him the posting in an important “economic” ministry like commerce and not in any unimportant department like “Department of Promotion of Hindi as Official Language”. The whole family of NKV was in cloud nine and what better way can there be than to perform an archanai (puja) in his name for the Thayar (mother Goddess) at the temple. This was followed by his old grandmother asking all of the family to sit on the floor as she, with her cupped hands full of chillies and mud from the street, performed the “Dhruishti Kazhithal”- a practice to counter the effect of evil eyes. The almanac was consulted for an auspicious date for joining duty and lo, the date was even earlier than the last date allowed in the appointment letter.

NKV had very little time to prepare for the journey like purchasing ready-made shirts, trousers, towels and undergarments, a pair of shoes, a new suit case and a thin mattress, bed sheets and pillows. Luz Corner in Mylapore Chennai where the family lived met all his requirements in one visit including a jar of lemon pickles. With the help of a cousin in Southern Railway Booking Office a second class sleeper ticket was also easily arranged in GT Express reaching Delhi just a day before the joining date.

On the D Day of departure there was a crowd of NKV’s relations at Chennai Central to bid farewell and in that one hour before the train steamed out, there was a plethora of advices and suggestions for living it out in Delhi. His mother was the most vociferous asking him to take weekly oil baths regularly, not to go to unknown places after dark and particularly not to visit his paternal aunt’s house in Karol Bagh since that lady was already jealous of her brother and now that his son is a government officer(!), it will only add to her jealousy. Father as usual was frugal with his words and asked him to not to spend unnecessarily and save to meet unknown expenses in a new place like Delhi. Athimber (sister’s husband) asked him to be moderate with his habits (NKV suspected that Athimber knew about his smoking and occasional imbibing) and enjoy his leisure and whispered in his ears, with a twinkle in his eyes, that Delhi had a lot to offer to bachelors, recounting some of his own experiences during his short posting in Delhi minus his wife.

Back in his reserved seat he lit a cigarette, (this was before smoking in train was banned) feeling elated, first to be away from all the protection of his close family and secondly at the prospect of an independent life in Delhi. He opened his pocket diary and checked the address of his friend Arul Doss in Munirkha where he will stay for a few days till he managed to find an independent accommodation for himself. The swaying of the train and the pleasant thought of sipping beer with Arul Doss by way returning the previous beers he has had with him in Chennai lulled him into a brief sleep.

He was woken up by a six footer stranger requesting him to move a little in his seat to accommodate him. NKV was aghast at the temerity of that fellow to not only wake him but also ask him for the seat. Controlling the anger in him, he told the stranger that the seat has been reserved by him and therefore it was “his” seat. The man had a good laugh at this and said how any passenger could claim a seat as “his” seat when all that has been done was to pay an additional charge for the duration of the journey. He said something in Punjabi like nobody brings with him anything nor takes anything away with him. He asked NKV to please “adjust” for some time before he got to speak to the TTE for a seat. He further implored him to show humane consideration to an outsider who does not know the local language and asked NKV to put himself (NKV) in his place to consider what he would have done under similar circumstances. NKV was infuriated at this lecturing and shouted at that fellow for travelling without valid reservation which he said was punishable under railway rules and further causing inconvenience to a bonafide passenger which was punishable under law. The stranger said that he was sorry but at the same time helpless. Mercifully a TTE appeared at this time and after some confidential conversation and the fellow opening his wallet a berth was allotted to him in the same coach.

The stranger now lit a cigarette and offered one to NKV. This cooled down NKV and he shifted slightly in his seat to let the other man have a perch. The stranger told him that he was a salesman for a garments company and had been to Coimbatore on business. He arrived in Chennai from Coimbatore just in the nick of time to catch the GT Express and therefore had no time for reservation. NKV on his part mentioned about his outstanding success in the UPSC examination and how he got allotted to an important Ministry and asked the salesman for directions to Munirkha from Delhi station if his friend does not receive him.

It was evening time by now and the Pantry bearers started serving dinner. NKV asked for a dinner but was rudely told that he had not placed order when they came in the afternoon to book dinner orders. Fortunately a couple of idlies were remaining in the lunch box packed by his mother and NKV ate them. The salesman had spread his bedding on the upper berth and went out to return with another Punjabi speaking young man and both sat on the upper berth. A bottle of whiskey was opened and the waiter was asked to get some ice and paper cups. These provided, they had a whale of a time laughing and singing. When the waiter appeared to take their orders for dinner, they asked for mutton biryani and fish. The waiter said that only vegetarian meals can be rigged at that time and that too as a special case for them. They gave him the unfinished bottle of whiskey and a hundred rupee note and told him that when the train stopped at the next junction, he should quickly go out and get the food from the hotels in front of the station. The waiter was all smiles and whistled his way out.

NKV lay in his berth musing about the alacrity of the salesman in converting a foot- hold in the train into an allotted berth and the method and means employed to get whatever he desired for dinner. Though he did not follow a word of their conversation, he understood one thing; that, to command a situation one should not just be intelligent but one should be smart as well.

As a first step, he decided to become known as NKV Dan or Danny to friends!

The GT Express chugged on its long journey to Delhi.

Me - A Selfie

With the advent of the smart phone, selfies have become popular. They come very useful to social media addicts for changing their profile pictures almost on a daily basis. I know of a friend whose profile picture one day was a decent clean shaven face and on the next day it changed to an unshaven, grimaced and contorted face, not even recognised by his mother. Selfies have their other uses as well. You don’t have to stand any more before the mirror to decide if a pair of glasses suits you or not since you cannot store your mirror images for comparison. But with selfie facility all you have to do is to take two selfies, one with and another without glasses, store them and decide in consultation with someone if need be. Or to see if you look better with your right or left cheek to the camera. This does not necessarily make you a narcissist, deriving erotic gratification by admiring your own physical attributes.

I am however trying to use the selfie concept in a different sense. I am going to capture as it were some episodes or phases of my life in my mind’s selfie camera. Don’t confuse yourself into thinking that my narration is autobiographical.
The first episode which comes to my mind is my admission test in a Chennai School in the year of our Independence. I had been to a village school till my 4th standard and knew Basic English which in those days was taught from 1st standard. But the Chennai School’s question asking me to write any two proverbs in English foxed me as the word proverb was new to me. I had known pronouns as alternate words for proper nouns and therefore guessed that proverbs too must be the alternate words for verbs. I considered some verbs like sit, stand, run, walk, etc. and not being able to find any alternate words for them, wrote my definitive and conclusive answer “ There are no proverbs in English”. At that young age itself, I exhibited the traits of a researcher which came to my good stead later in life and career in academics.
Later while studying in higher classes in Delhi, I postulated the theory that a student would understand a theory, concept etc. more clearly not in the standard when he/she is taught, but later after going to a higher standard. For instance, the geometrical proof for the Pythagorean Theorem taught in standard 8 became clear to me only when I was in 10th standard. So also was the concept of market price and normal price in Economics, taught in school, becoming clearer after leaving school and when Economics was no longer my subject? Many others have confessed to me the validity of this theory in confidence.

Next, the selfie of my nose. Apart from showing a lot to be desired, it set me thinking in a different path. If you think that the nose is just an organ in the human face like the eyes, ears, mouth, etc., you have not understood its predominant significance. First and foremost, it juts out a few centimetre from the plane of the face. Unless you have a paunch, it is the first organ to enter a room. As an organ, it performs the same function of breathing in and breathing out and smelling in every person. So do the other organs with their assigned functions and they are more or less the same in shape and form in every person. But, like no two clocks would show the same time, no two noses look the same. What a variety of their shapes; long ,chiseled, bulbous, short, flat, stubby, up- turned showing the interiors, pinched ,twisted. In short, as many shapes as there are people on earth. Not only that, even in respect of the single nose of a person, the two nostrils are often neither symmetrical nor similar; one may me be lean and long and the other may be flared and flawed. In fact, it is the nose that characterises and classifies the races into Chinese, Greeks, Africans, Kashmiris and so on .( I would like do my second Ph.D. on nose if I get a girl research assistant with a well-shaped nose!). It is not for nothing that Blaise Pascal said “Cleopatra’s nose, had it been shorter, the face of the world would have been changed.

I conclude with a recent selfie. I am very popular in our Housing Society, among the women in particular, who all affectionately call me uncle. It led me to think that that even at my age I am a hero-like material till recently a young lady, of course with an exquisite nose, told me that my face reminded her of a lamb in her childhood home!!