Swamped by problems

One of my assignments involved the Pallikaranai Swamp.Here is the piece.It is important to me and I intend to follow up on it.


The Pallikaranai Swamp along the old Mahabalipuram road has always served as the city’s stormwater drain and as a mini-ecosystem supporting over 106 kinds of migratory and wetland birds.However,over the years,its size has shrunk from 40 sq km to four square kilometres.The marsh has served as a landfill for solid waste and sewage and part of it has also been used by Chennai Metropolitan Development Authority(CMDA) for housing,and for building a Government hospital,colleges, and the Mass Rapid Transit System(MRTS) .

(Photo taken from Frontline magazine)

According to Mr.Ramkumar,an advocate working with Exnora,the two main issues concerning residents and others like the Save the Pallikaranai Marsh Forum(SPMF)are the unscrupulous garbage dumping and the destruction of the water ecosystem.Mr.Ramkumar said that under the pretext of reclaiming the marsh,the National Institute of Ocean Technology had been allowed to construct its building right in the middle of the wetland.

Exnora has been propagating a system of waste management that would tackle both the volume and nature of garbage.It is suggesting the use of composting and recycling,both of which can reduce reduce the volume of garbage to only 10% of the original volume.Mr.Ramkumar explains that since roughly 50 percent of the city’s garbage is organic it can be composted and the inorganic waste can be recycled.

Even composting,he said,can be done at the family level or at the community level- “You can compost garbage in plastic buckets at home.Or, a few families can employ a person to do it.Only 25 percent will remain,which you can add as fertilizer to the topsoil”.He adds that it is essential to develop a market for various recyclable items.This could reduce the city’s solid waste output from 5500 tonnes to merely 250 tonnes.

The SPMF,on the other hand feels that the encroachment of the marsh will affect its biordiversity as it is the breeding place for wetland birds.Mr.Murugavel of the SPMF pointed out that birds are hunted down indiscriminately using ‘spray bullets’ that contain metal ions to stun them en masse.

The SPMF also voices the concerns of citizens living nearby.Many people have respiratory diseases due to garbage burning.Similarly, discharge of industrial effluents has caused an increase in the levels of lead,chromium and mercury in the water table.

Due to the efforts government organizations and fora like Care Earth,SPMF and Sustain the Government is finally “taking interest now” in declaring Pallikaranai a protected area,Mr Murugavel said.

However,the SPMF still plans to conduct a ‘Satyagraha’,involving fasting,on October 2nd.Their goals are to ensure that the marsh soon be declared a protected area under the Tamil Nadu Forest Act (1882) and Wildlife protection act (1972),to prevent dumping or burning of garbage,and to ban building construction in the marsh.

However,if the Government does not do so quickly,and if the remaining part of this natural flood barrier is destroyed,the whole of the adjacent area of Velachery could be flooded.This will not only mark the end of an ecosystem but will leave the city bereft of a storm drain and the residents of the area swamped by new problems.

Observation piece

My Professor who took the Language and Style classes asked us to write an observation piece.It has been returned to me,and I think he marked me pretty okay since his comment was "very nice". :)

The dark, betel- juice stained, narrow stairway leading to the flat actually had vivid electric blue walls that were hidden by the lack of more than one zero-watt bulb on one floor.Even summer daylight did not seem to touch them.

The house on the second floor had a disproportionate “K” written in white paint on a black circle near the doorbell.The door which was usually a dull white was open,and revealed pale blue walls within.A dull beam of light from the balcony near the door rested near on the right temple of a man lying in the middle of the hall.At that exact moment, a series of splitting wails from a plump woman sitting by him drowned out the horns of impatient buses on the street.

Her partially silver hair was loose,and she hit her chest rhythmically,blowing her nose on the red border of her saree at intervals.A lopsided reflection of her on the television screen nearby faded slowly as the sky was overcast.There was no sign of blue anywhere for a moment,until the clouds passed.

An old man in an immaculate white dhoti with many warts near the hollow of his eyes
went to a dresser.He pulled out a bottle,vigorously shook the pale yellow liquid and
sprayed it,his nose crinkling.The strong scent of airplane tissues swam around the room.

The dead man seemed around sixty,his hair grey and sparse at the temples.His nostrils were stuffed with wads of cotton and the bandage binding his big toes was fast wearing out. A young girl of about thirteen sat near him,her face smudged with tears.She rested her head on the still chest occasionally and closed her big brown eyes.But everytime she lifted her head,her eyes would be flooded again.

The number of hushed voices and dusty bare feet increased slowly.The sky faded to the same colour as the wall and the odour of death overcame the reek of the eau de cologne.But the girl did not move.


(Note:No guesses as to the protagonists of the piece.And though it looks incomplete,we had to work on a word limit,and plus the point was not to write a novel.)

Women and public space

Here is an assignment I wrote.I had written a very acerbic and unconstructive critique titled 'Why men are pigs' prior to this.But I found that thinking for a while actually helped me in putting my point across.

A few days back,I was travelling by a city bus that was splitting at its seams.Everyone knows it can be very suffocating and painful to remain standing in such a situation,while being sandwiched between the lady whose hair is laden with jasmine and the ubiquitous man who reeks of beedis. Most of us get used to it.

But what I can never get used to is the occasional male who insists on using the crowd to add to your discomfort.He stares, breathes down your neck, or pretends that his hand has no place to rest except a vulnerable part of your anatomy.Both your body and your perception of public space are altered.

Perhaps the most vexing experience I’ve had is on a cold night a few years back during a school trip in Hyderabad.Three of us were walking towards our bus, when three men started following us.Panicking,we started walking faster and then broke into a run.But then, overwhelmed by a mixture of mad rage and helplessness, I turned back and yelled at them,using the choicest profanities I knew.They stopped and faded into the nearby shops.But, my sense of security was eroded.

Women everywhere are forced to accept the violation of the little security that public places provide us, since any recourse by law is tedious.We are routinely leched at, touched inappropriately and then are trained to accept it as normal behaviour.We lobby to be given the right to work night shifts in factories,but forget that the right to safety may not accompany it.

Any attempt to walk on the roads with the simple identity of being just a human being is futile .Most of us grow up actually feeling grateful that we have not faced more than the “usual” or “acceptable” amount of harassment.We never stop to examine what this means and who defined its parameters.

What is worse is that,universities are now setting dress codes to condone popular perception of women.In public consciousness,there will then always exist a clear division between the vamp and the virgin,the woman who can be whistled at because she is 'inappropriately attired', and the woman who will be whistled at even if she is 'acceptably dressed'.

But the irony is that neither category(if you can divide women so rigidly at all) can walk on the road as just another person.The identity of being a woman will always remain. And,not as a positive one.

Chennai speaks!

Here are some pictures(Sid and) I took.Life in Chennai as a journo student..man is it craazy!And,no comments on how you find my pics.Kidding.No comments on both our pics.:)



The books are from a bookseller who claimed that he had paid 10K to get out of a court case for pirating Harry Potter 6.




The lady is the middle sister in a family of three ladies,each of whom was named by their mother after Tamil film actresses of the 60's and 70's!



This picture was taken by Sid.Good ol' Ranganathan street literally has NO breathing space.Sid actually climbed atop the police booth and took this one.



The vivid red can either make your salivate or throw up..you choose!



It doesn't look like it..but this man stopped and posed for us.





This picture needs no explanation!The cute boy speaks for himself!

Of agrahaarams and my frog prince

What is all the fuss about indigenous Brahmin settlements,namely agrahaaram(s) disappearing ?

After that tiring spate of exams I caught myself enjoying Bhagyaraj's Idhu Namma Aalu,and wondering what kind of man would elicit a promise from his son-in-law forbidding him from "touching" his nubile wife?

I really enjoyed the oft-repeated ellam manidhargalum samam message.It seemed even more prounounced as I realized that my own family(not immediate,but extended) would never understand the importance of..err..."being earnest".

I really wonder how my nosy father's myriad uncles and co will react if I get married out of my caste. I get such cheap thrills out of imagining their vehement faces and their fired up patriarchal egos,their mumblings and mutterings and inability to say anything directly to me or dad.Wow..I am amazed at the number of cold war versus open ridicule scenarios I can conjure up.

Just as I was cherishing this very interesting thought,I started singing some old Hindi numbers and went to do some laundry..And lo,we have a small green fella with a supine look hiding behind the detergent box.Wowie..a frog of my own?
If I kiss him,will he become a raajkumar?But in case he doesn't..won't that be a perfectly good first(yeah that's right..first) kiss gone waste?

So I said what the heck,I might as well sing for him.So I stood there wailing Hai re hai,neend nahi aaye... at the top of my voice(pining for my mard(man)...which is what they say in aamchi Mumbai).Turns out he wasn't a big fan of tha musik.He leapt up as if to say,shut up bitch,and hid behind another box.So,now I was very piqued.Hamne mehfil jamaya aur koi beech mein utthkar jaaye?(Rough translation:How can you leave in the middle of my musical effusions?)So,I got a take-out food box and decided to trap him in that and MAKE him listen to me.

Then,I found myself,dabba in hand,prodding him,gently trying to coax him into jumping into it,only to have him jump at me instead.I leaped up in dismay with a ear-splitting "aiyoooo" and banged against the tap behind me which splurged open instantly wetting my backside and my clean jeans.

Great.No prince,no connoisseur,just a wet bum.This is what happens when exams are over and one has nothing to do.

Anyway,luckily for me,that day ma's pal Guru had come over(eligible ladies:he's looking!) and after hearing my repeated rantings on how even a frog had turned me down,he rolled his eyes,grabbed a broom and a dustpan and shooed the little fella into the box.Finally!

So dripping wet and all,I sang all the way as we took him to the garden and dumped him near the bushes.He looked relieved and took off in the opposite direction.I contemplated following but then,....I could smell palak paneer.

Later on, I decided to call my vehement froggie fella kammnaati.Manorama uses that term in Samsaaram Oru Minsaaram where she wittily says "Come na come,come naati(kammanaati) GOO!"

Sorry da froggie ..for having disturbed your nap.But someday...oru naal..we will meet again.And I will win you over too.With or without a kiss.

Got my DL!!!!!

After a gruelling wait of nearly a month and sustained back ache I got my DRIVER'S LICENCE!Man,it was a long wait.I was so bloody sick last week with my back,I couldn't move.Landed up missing college the whole week.

So, on DL-Day,I get up real early(read:7 am),get dressed in conservative clothes.This test is not based on best eye candy,yaar.So,I'm off in the chugging white Maruti 800.Is this the test car that the Driving Institute has sent?Crap,will it go above 40 kmph or what?The driver shakes his head.Ma'am(he says that really smooth,like an angrez),not necessary to cross that speed even in fourth gear?ENNA?(What?)He tells me I should "show" all the gears to the official.Stifling a giggle.Before leaving,ma gets glucose biscuits and mango juice(even though I said no,thanks.)

Have to go to the Institute first.Dingy office.Sophie the receptionist with her "butler English" tells me to meet the owner.Gosh,I hate that creep.Don't get nervous he says.It's all luck and the RTO(Regional Transport Officer) guy's mood.As long as the car doesn't stop and you don't smash into a tree it's okay.Sure,it's okay for you el creepo.

Ma's car I had tried last night and it stopped 7 times!I nearly cried the last time,and so did she except she said you dumkoff why demoralize yourself by driving this 19 year old Maruti Suzuki.Point noted,ma'am.

Went to the place where they take the test next.Race Course Road.Made a few friends due to my incessant banter.First,Mrs.Deivanai(whose husband is in Sharjah and she's leaving soon), then Mary who works in a bank,Mrs Jancy who was thoroughly amused by me humourous observations and finally Poorni who turned up sensibly in a sleeveless kurta.She'd flunked before for switching from the second to the fourth gear.One Mr.Sandalwood paste on his forehead and Lime Green T-Shirt clad round guy turned up too.They took their test in Mr.sandalwood's red maruti 800 which looked like "chandu pottu" colour.All from the same driving school.But there were other driving school people and even private candidates.I saw atleast six schools with Godly names like Vinayakar,Ganesha,Devi, and some other weird ones like True Wish and Excellent Drving school.Gosh!

Waited for 2 hours!Man,got fried,then flipped then fried again.Never going to have eggs again!Then the RTO guys show up and some other driving institute people got ahead of us in the line.Poorni came last and the RTO guy refused to sign her papers.Only 30 people are allowed to take the test everyday.

Nevertheless all my pals being from the same driving school,we boarded 2 cars-an ambassador and the maruti for the test.Some 9 of us.The white maruti(for the test)went ahead,the rest of us followed in the ambi,and between us was the red maruti 800.The official tests all the people from one driving school together.We drive for say 3 minutes and then the next person takes his/her chance.Since we were many(mostly women),3 boarded the maruti first and the rest of us followed in the ambi.None of us wanted an ambi for the test.

The first three were doctor women who took their test first.One babe flunked.Car went off the road.Then we got in.Poorni hoped this guy would give her a chance.She too couldn't bunk college for a retrial.

Mrs Deivanai went and drove well.Only thing is she parked the car some four feet away from the tree.Our frantic driver cum instructor beckoned to me.Only I can swerve enough to take the car back on the right.Was flattered.So took the car out and drove.Was amazed at my own fearlessness.Used all four gears by 40kmph.Then the RTO guy tells me to "lessen the gear".Yeah why not.

Thrilled at the finish!Whew!Next is Jancy.Her mallu accent is damn cute.But her driving is not.The car stops three times!She's at this junction,and doesn't know how to restart it, and tries to start in first gear.It lurches ahead.The driver is muttering and sweating.Then worse still,it starts to head backwards towards the ambi.She doesn't apply the brakes.The official is petrified.Applies the brakes(It's a two way brake and clutch vehicle).Still doesn't start.He asks her to get out.

Now three of us who've finished run back to the ambi and Mary and Poorni board the maruti.Everyone finishes.Poorni gets another chance at her test.We come to know that Jancy has flunked.Her voice gets all choked and she wonders what went wrong.Decides to go home and come back next week.Poor thing.So Mrs.Deivanai and I have got through.We are to go to the RTO office first.The rest will follow.We have glucose biscuits and juice to celebrate.

It's mid afternoon and the RTO wears a deserted look.Everyone's eating.I call up the driver to ask if the rest are coming and he says your ma's getting lunch.Hai Raam..ma's solicitousness really makes me wild and grateful all at once.Hot chappatis and kurma.God bless her!Deivanai eats sparingly.Maybe she's too polite or maybe she hates North Indian food.

Then they all come.The driver says he's going,please find your own way home.In other words,nice knowing your sorry asses, and now that you're getting the licence,astalavista.Not so soon smartie.Tell Sophie to send us a car after we finish.He shrugs non-committally.

Next is photo taking,signing the licence and lamination.My initial comes before my name.Damn,I hate that!I know it's called an initial but I think my name is more important.Plus,my address is misspelt.Anyway,this is India,baby, and the licence is cool.The 3D logo of the State has a maruti on it.Wowie!

Parting time.Got everyone's cell numbers.Almost walked halfway to the busstand when Mary caught me walking.We both live nearby,so she and I caught a rick back home.I overpaid,but it was totally worth it!

Came home and collapsed.Heard some Beethoven.Oh joyful joyful I adore thee,God of Gears and Lord of Licences.Long Live!