The Republic of Marina

The kids had demonstrated to perfection the Gandhian method of peaceful protest. An ordinance legalizing the sport of Jallikattu had been promulgated the previous night. When I started for my run that day, my thoughts were similar to that of a Bull let out to face a crowd of testosterone raged youngsters. I was not sure if endorphins were enough motivation or I should have temporarily kept aside my Gandhian qualms and had a few quick stiff ones!

The ‘Occupy Marina’ movement had virtually relegated the police, politicians and reel heroes from their midst. The youngsters had given a stellar example of how to implement Swatch Bharat, the young man riding a Corporation garbage lorry proudly adorning the protective gear made a lasting impact compared to all the celebrities ceremoniously wielding the broom for the media cameras! The volunteers regulating traffic without use of power or challans, but, just a cheery smile set the bar high for their counterparts in white who have tarnished their profession by demanding bribes not far from the War memorial! That the conventional politicians of all hues were rattled was best seen in the way the leaders of a popular political denomination trying to stop suburban trains were made to appear foolish by kids travelling in the train with me. They asked the protesters how they would reach Marina if the trains are stopped. The protesters beat a hasty retreat shamefacedly. Clearly, the rules have been changed by the younger generation!

Most telling image was that the who’s who of the state bureaucracy, who used to strut around pompously in the dress rehearsal of Republic day, were relegated to a side road in the Army area this year. The policemen who used to be brash with commoners were appearing suitably humbled. In my last loop near RBI when one traffic policeman with sporting a trademark paunch imitated my running, I took him on and said had he been more genuine and regular in his copying of my running, he would be more healthy and could get rid of his paunch. He had the final laugh when he said that I do not seem to have conquered my temper despite Gandhian wear and regular exercise. Guess, I was feeling emasculated by the crowd of youngsters shaming the entire state machinery (not that anything could hurt more than the top civil servant of the state having been caught with a stash of money recently!)

In my last loop near Napier bridge I was stopped by a posse of determined policemen who absolutely refused entry to me on to the Marina beach road. I tried Gandhi, then anger, but, to no avail. I cursed them that may they be relegated further away from the public discourse for their insensitive behavior to an old man for extending his run by four more kilometers by asking him to take an unfamiliar and alternate route. Little did I know that the young man in uniform was doing his duty and preventing me from getting embroiled in the police protestor tussle on the Marina.

In my opinion the victory coming so easily made the youngsters feel that that had bid low and could have asked for more. Having won the ‘Right to Fight’ the bull, were they doubting their ability and the bulls will to fight? My take is that we as elders have failed to define virility and manhood to this generation of Pokemon chasers that they had to go as far as Sangam literature to resurrect Bull taming. My prescription would be taking to running to woo a girl as well as staying as a united family!

All in all let us celebrate the youngsters at Marina for validating Gandhian methods, even if for a doubtful cause, hoping that they would come back with worthier causes. If nothing else, I am sure it would give pride in work to the many sanitary workers, humility to the police and the powers that be! Long live the Republic!

Taking the Bull by its horns!

With the battle for the ‘Right to Fight’ raging and the crowds of youngsters taking to my running arena these last two days (and nights before I am told!), I have been riding the horns of dilemma. Though the subject is hugely topical and emotional, the fact that the Bull for whose well being and virility everyone seems to be speaking for, I wanted to speak up for him. My interest in bovine matters is of recent origin, after I turned Vegan and realized the withdrawal symptoms    after voluntarily abstaining from the species better halves nurturing offering. The crowds on the Marina beach are largely peaceful and the interest of youngsters in matter agricultural is heartening. Gandhiji with his head bowed would have appreciated their means of protest, but, the ends seem suspect.

The stated reason for the popular uprising is defending our culture and virility (the Bull’s I meant!). With all the emotion and heat surrounding the topic, I have not been able to understand about how letting they play ‘Taming the bull’ for once a year would make the vanishing breeds survive. The problem of dwindling native species of the male kind is ominous in the days of the sperm banks and IVF even for the males of the human kind! What chance does lesser mortals in the foreseeable future of designer babies!

On a serious note, the imported breeds being preferred by dairy farmers, because of their much superior (even if unhealthy(?)) yield, over native bulls is all too familiar like the hybrid and GM seeds threatening the native seeds. The solution would be to work on the growing awareness of superiority of things Órganic’! Governments and NGO’s should support preservation of native breeds and sell the produce (even if costlier on face value!) to discerning buyers. Animal husbandry department of the government and enterprising and educated dairy farmers would be a key to this. To promote local and native produce can be marketed as promoting nationalism and patriotism (which is the flavor of the season!). The anger and emotional energy aroused by the issue of ‘Jallikattu’ should be channelized to sustain and nurture their interest in farmers and farming.

Only recently in the Hindu Literature festival held over the previous weekend, the fact of largely docile Indian public in the face of queuing for days for cash after demonetization was suggested for a wider sociological study for what makes us Indians so docile, sure enough, the empire struck back so bullishly vindicating their virility!

As a result of the all night vigil on my run route, I have had to reduce the number of loops on the Marina with the longer part of the run being relegated to the Fort and military area. My unusual dress or the lack of it, I feared, could be the proverbial read rag to the bullied youth! I need not have worried, they gave me a rousing cheer when I crossed them and I felt like in the home stretch of Mumbai marathon which I had recently ducked in keeping with my abstention for commercial events!

Enough on the bulls, as I feel that even if it is the steed of my namesake lord, which with their better halves have hogged lot of footage even to the exclusion of matters concerning the human beings. Biscuit (my aggrieved pet due to this partiality!) has not had his limp on the right foreleg not being reported in the press. Then, there is the minor issue of the pain in my right knee which threatens to break my routine runs. We both have decided to soldier on even if limpingly and at the time of going to press, we both are better!

Though I wanted to restrict this post to matters Bullish, but, the chance encounter the day before cannot wait for my next blog. I usually take my final (and a longish!) break near Gandhi statue before my return trip. A man accosted me opposite the DGP’s office. He asked me about my father and, without even waiting for a full reply, said that he is the grandson of freedom fighter VOC! I know any amount of pride in my grandfather’s accomplishment could have been no match for his lineage. I have seen the movie on VOC and Sivaji’s proud visage in that role came alive to me. He said he spoke seven languages and broke into a rousing song (I confessed that my Tamil was only passable!). He had his right hand amputated from below the elbow and he claimed to work as a security guard. The pride in his voice and his sincere face told me that he could be telling the truth. I was reminded of V Sriram, the Hindu columnist who writes about Madras Miscellany every week about lesser known facts of the city, who spoke in the recently concluded Litfest about the stellar ladies of Chennai of yore. I think if this reaches him, he could test the authenticity of the man’s claim and we should help the descendant of the freedom fighter, who staked his all for the country’s sake, so that even if his genuineness is proved we could help him as he seems to be in bad ways! There never is a dull day when I take to my run in the morning (a creaky knee notwithstanding!)  and with such VIP acquaintances any furlough could be costly!

The morning after

I knew that the runner crowd at Marina would resemble the scene of the Library at my college after the day of the exam, yes I am referring to the Chennai Marathon which attracted a record number of runners yesterday. The decision regarding whether to run on the day of the marathon when major part of my route coincides with the marathon route was a dicey one and if my station duty the previous night and the much maligned punctuality of Indian Railways saved me from the dilemma.

True to expectation the route today was bereft of the trademark yellow Tees’, but, the usual walking crowd and an awesome weather did not disappoint me. My puppy friends near the Marina swimming pool who have been playing hide and seek in this New year kept faith with my regularity and punctuality and gave me a rousing welcome.

The crowds continue to throng outside the final resting place of the demised CM Amma even after more than a month having passed since her death. I am tempted to take a break and visit her Samadhi, but, I am hoping to get a private audience after the crowds subside. The entrepreneurial spirit of the tea vendors has set up a few vends on cycle near the place. They tried tempting me with their fare in the first few days, but, now they have now switched to ribbing each other about running with me. Even though there have been question marks over her means, but, the unabated crowds thronging her resting place makes me rethink the Gandhian adage of means being as important as the ends!

The other epochal event since I last went to press was the ‘Note ban’. I have swung widely about whether it was good or bad during the 50 day period it has played out. The crowds outside the ATM’s, I cross during my run, have dwindled, but, whether it is lack of cash in the ATM’s or the appetite of the public is not clear. The cyclone Varda did steal the thunder from mundane matters like cash and flattened many trees in its path as the trial by elements in month of December of this chosen city continued. The devastation caused to the communication networks compounded the miseries of the cashless people. The gnarled remains of trees still lying, with the civic authorities running out of places of disposal, present a sad scene. The view from my 5^th floor balcony gives a clear view of the famed cake and apparel joints across the road, the foliage thinned like the receding hairline of a middle aged man.

Coming back to my morning run today, the kids near the Monroe statue stopped me and asked if I participated in the marathon run the previous day. I told them my usual answer that I do not pay for what comes free!  The usual crowd of army runners and the kids on skates around the Island ground gave me the feeling that it was Business as Usual!

Of puppy love and other mundane matters

As a rule i am very faithful to Biscuit and do not flirt, but, there is this cute puppy I cross every day near the Marina swimming pool (where the kids train under coach Sharad!). This puppy first started wooing me by running along for a little distance. Few days back it progressed to cutely asking for a pat on his head. Yesterday he demanded back rub and introduced his entire family to me. Since I started finding it difficult to get away from them I ran on the road near the median from Anna square police station itself to circumvent them. To my surprise and horror I found this guy lying in wait for me near the median when I came for my second loop. I had to escort him through the thick vehicular traffic to his family. Biscuit even with his acute sense of smell has not been able to catch on to my temporary infidelity. I must find a way of getting out of this affair before the puppy gets hurt in traffic or Biscuit senses something!

Yesterday was my three weeks of continuous running without a break and just when my mind had nearly succeeded in convincing me that it was time to take a break, I saw this article about a guy in USA who had run continuously for a period of 42 days and a distance of 70 miles every day. Though comparisons are odious, it is sobering to stay grounded by seeing such posts!

Knee pain continues its low intensity war, but, the good news is that it gets beaten into submission within the first few kilometers into the run. I was propounding this theory to my young runner friend Shreyas that the pains which start during the run and gets worse progressively into the run are dangerous while the ones of my knee pain kind must be strengthening the part each day. Interestingly, one of the regular walkers stooped me a few days back and asked what he should do about his knee pain which he gets when he tries running. I told him to run softly, mindfully and without competing. I myself am still to conquer the last mentioned sin completely and usually pay for getting tempted to compete particularly when the challenger is of the fairer sex!

People I meet in my morning runs have different ways of showing that they are watching me regularly. Take this trio on a scooter today who addressed me endearingly as Thata (Tamil for Grandpa!, I am getting used to this appellation) and asked me for a selfie on the TTK flyover. They were on the way to Beach after their night shift. Then there is this group of old ladies who sit chatting under the MRTS flyover (I call them the three witches of Macbeth!), one of them said you can hear the 4.30AM chime when this old man crosses this bridge (gladdening to hear Hubli passenger’s punctuality!). A guy with a pony and a pillion pulled over as I had just descended from the TTK flyover on my way back a few days back and asked me why I was running late (I was on time give or take a quarter of an hour, but, this is their way of claiming familiarity!). The icing on the cake was a loud voice from one of a group of youngsters from under the portico of the building ‘Thata, see you at 7 near RBI’, it was heartening even if at 7 AM Hubli passenger would most likely be near Gandhi statue than RBI, still the claimed familiarity gladdens the heart!

IMD has predicted that the monsoons would arrive in Chennai tomorrow and going by the humidity today, a run in the rain is a distinct possibility tomorrow. Fingers and toes crossed!

Random thoughts

I have some sensitive matters to be discussed about Biscuit’s friends which could distress him so I am suspending the customary invocation to him. You guessed it, I am referring to the savage treatment meted out to them in the ‘God’s own country’. Every time I see a family sleeping under the bus shelters or on road side sharing their tattered rugs/sheets with their canine friend, I am aghast at the ungodly act of our neighbours. I was reminded of this when I saw a pup on the R K Salai doing a good imitation of the famous towel dance of Ranbir Kapoor in the movie ‘Saawariya’ on the jute bag left out to dry in the middle of the road. Good they do not have newspapers and 24x7 TV channels in their world reporting the atrocities.

The foot soldiers of ‘Swatch Bharat’, I mean the sanitary workers, who are usually a chirpy lot before commencing their Sisyphean labours of the day were a quieter lot today. I was reminded of the study quoted in The HINDU where taking a cue from the practice in the Japanese schools, schools in India tried inculcating habits requiring sweeping and mopping in schools amongst students. Interestingly, this was opposed both in posh private schools (which was not a surprise!) and the Government schools (because the parents were trying to get the kids out of the very thing!). It is my humble opinion that the way forward is encouraging kids (especially boys) to wash their cups/plates and clothes from a young age not by preaching but by actually practicing the same by us elders. Similarly, in offices I am contemplating asking colleagues to wash the cups after taking tea/coffee (Still in a dilemma, if it would be seen as too radical!).

Cows grazing on the lawns of Beach road took me back to the stray cattle menace, particularly cattle which are beyond their productive age. I was reminded of an interesting video clipping on Youtube from the program on Vijay TV ‘Satyamev Jayate’episode on this subject posted by Vinoth Kumar where the cattle being used as bio-digesters to convert vegetable waste to manure (it said Black Gold!). We could have people returning vegetable waste to vendors who can send it back through the suppliers. This chain could work in the empty flow direction of Vegetable supply vehicles. Any Startup enthusiast game? I remember having said this when I had gone on a visit to Amdavad Municipal Corporation and seen vegetable waste from the market yard being transported huge distances by MSW contractors to the landfills. Seen in this light, the Gau Raksha could turn out to be sound economics!

A runner (I would not name him!) whom I regularly cross on the Beach road, accosted me a few days back and asked me if I could foot his registration for the Delhi Half marathon. My regular beggar friends would tell you that for much less the Hubli passenger has snorted and sped off. Not knowing how to get rid of him politely, I took his mobile number and messaged few known runners thinking that would be the end of it. Yesterday again he cornered me and followed up. I was firmer in my refusal as his assertion earlier of that being the last date for registration was obviously false. I have been always saying that Running is the mother of all addictions, but, such craving for events even I could not support!

Interestingly, the permanent resident outside church near Gemini circle was today decked in crisp white shirt and combing his lush hair. This was probably his way of getting back at the bare-chested bald runner in me. I could only smile and carry on!

Sorry, if this episode comes out as disconnected and disjointed, I had to get it out of my system to have a clean slate for recording my weekend runs!

The Nation wants to know!

Time to introduce another of Biscuit’s friend(?). He is of the same breed as Snowy of Tintin fame and as white and cute as him, but, the trouble is he swears (read barks!) as badly as a drunk Captain Haddock. He gets aggravated by Biscuit’s total nonchalance at his hard hitting performance. It is as if the silence on the neighbour’s at our surgical effort! There is a new addition to the canine club with a Rottweiler pup (same colour as Biscuit’s bête-noire Tiggy!) who is tied to his master’s car while the master goes for his clubbing in the Railway club. He is very adorable and Biscuit is warming up to him and their symphony of tail wagging a treat to watch. As they say everybody is adorable when young, the difference between a donkey and horse is known when they grow up. No offence to Rottweilers (I am    partial to Labradors!).

Some improvement on the charkha spinning front. I have been able to source cotton locally from Srivilliputtur within the jurisdiction of Southern Railway reducing the carbon footprints of my spinning activity. All was not as smooth as it sounds, there was a real scare that I could have been out of cotton on the Gandhi jayanti day. Thanks to my friend who chipped in with her grandfather’s stock to avoid a major embarrassment! Time now to locate a local weaver!

The humid and muggy weather has been testing the runners’ patience and die-hardiness. While there is a temptation to bunk the run, but, the thought of guilt for the rest of the day for a few sweat soaked hours in the bed gets me to the door at the appointed hour. I have had two bunks during the period since I went to press last. While one was a party which could not be avoided the other was my mobile alarm malfunction!

I have been trying to analyse what gets people on the road to engage with me. If our favourite anchor was to get over the overkill on the surgical strikes and really ask what the ‘Nation wants to know’, it should be, Why does Hubli passenger run daily? The permanent resident of the bus shelter outside the church opposite Isaphani center has taken to showing his anger as I pass him. Since he is vocally challenged, it is difficult to guess his cause for anger. I am getting a feeling that he thinks I am mocking his attire by running past him bare-chested! There is definitely a fine line between empathy and mockery!

My left knee has been giving a little trouble, but, it gets better by the time I reach the Gemini flyover (about 2 Km into the run). I am reminded of the joke Rajesh Khanna made in the movie Anand about Asit Sen’s complaint of shifting pain. My Piriformis syndrome (pain in the bu$# to put it bluntly!) seems to be moving downward. The old man who crosses me on his cycle near Mylapore with knee caps on both his knees seems to be warning me too!

The crowd waiting for the bus near the shelter opposite City-center was having an audience poll on my itinerary with each person speaking from the point where they have seen me. I was tempted to stop and give a self declaration and clinch the issue. Their shyness in talking to me does not stop them from pulling each other’s leg asking them to catch me if they can!

I have had occasion to mention earlier about the boy (his name is Michael!) who skates with a smile on his face. I finally gave in to the temptation and stopped and shook his hand and told him to continue enjoying his game and congratulated his mother for letting him enjoy it. I also stopped another mother who pushes her daughter (could not have been more than 10 years old!) too much with the result that the poor girl skates with a sad face. Now the result is the girl skates with a smile on her face and the mother has a glum face when she crosses me.

I got a pleasant surprise when the shop owner of the apparel shop (one of the rare occasions when I accompanied my wife for her shopping) commented that he has seen me somewhere. I told him ‘I run’. He immediately flashed a smile of recognition and said he could not recognize me with my shirt on! Coming from him it was not so much an embarrassment as similar comments by the fairer sex have caused me when I am with my wife/daughter! No, I did not ask for a discount!

Today a gentleman standing near his parked car stopped me and after effusive praise for my regularity and dedication told that he comes to drop his kid to the school and sees me every day. He is a citizen warden and for one understood why I run opposite to the flow of traffic. He is an optician and wanted to present me a cooling glass at least! So do not be surprised if you find the Hubli passenger running with coolers on! 

What’s in a name?

However weighty the issues on hand, the customary invocation to Biscuit in the beginning cannot be suspended! The previous Saturday edition of Metro Plus accompanying the Hindu newspaper made our day when a long article on Biscuit’s brethren being employed in offices with fancy designation as CFO (It is Chief Fun Officer and not Chief Finance Officer!). Biscuit appeared sad thinking about the missed opportunities, but, the commercial world’s loss is our gain. He is like the humble housewife whose contribution is often underestimated as compared to the working women. Biscuit has a full day helping all the inmates live a full life while challenging squirrels and engaging in shouting matches with his quadruped neighbours in the block.

It takes something special nay foolhardy to join issues with the Bard of Avon, but, if you substitute Rose with ‘Pain in the B#$$’and the alternative name is as exotic as Piriformis syndrome, I think it is fair game. I felt like Kakaji in movie Anand, gloating over his ‘Lymphosercoma of the intestine’! I am speaking of unspeakable and unbearable pain in my glutes about two weeks back which had immobilized me and more importantly kept me from my running for a full three days. Thanks to a chance conversation with my Doctor brother, I got a name (a fancy one at that!) to bandy around which can be fashionably discussed even in mixed company. I have found this that sooner you can give a name to your medical condition and immediately you start feeling better, I guess it is because you move from the uncertainty to an area where others have gone before!

Dr. Google tells me that this condition afflicts people who sit on their backs and/or who run long distances. I think my job is the cause and my wife believes it is my daily dose of running. I have made a concession to walk around a bit during my office hours between files and meetings and a few stretches before the run. Thankfully, I am back to my normal quota of runs.

Weather gods have been kind to the running community these past few weeks and my recuperation has been greatly aided by it. I am normally quite chirpy during my runs and I only get chirpier if the rain gods oblige. It was on one such day that while running with Sameer, the swimming coach to youngsters near Anna square, I engaged in small talk with a person speaking animatedly near a water puddle and with hilarious consequences. When I answered his repeated query as to ‘How one could survive without the Sun’ with an assurance that the Sun would come out assuming he was worried about the puddle splashing people. He got agitated and asked if I voted for the rising Sun? He castigated me by saying that if one does not vote for the rising Sun then how could it come. Only then it sunk into my thick skull that I have been had by a hard core political analyst and supporter of the opposition party of TN. I got away by promising him that I would consider voting for the rising sun next time around!

The loop around the Island ground forms Km 19-23 of my run and should technically have me tired, but, with enthusiastic greetings from the Army men all through it is the most enjoyable. Now, this part of the run has got even better with the young kids practicing skating and their parents starting to acknowledge me with greetings as they whiz past me multiple times. One young boy really stands out as he seems to enjoy his sport and even greets me as he crosses me on my way back on the Radhakrishnan Salai when he is relaxing on the pillion of the scooter!

Many incidents worthy of adorning this blog happened in the last few weeks of the run, but, newer encounters get overwritten on the older ones. Two days back when I was refuelling myself at the water point near Saravana café, an athletic looking man rushed to me and said that he is from Rajapalayam (a town known for its breed of dogs!). He said he has come for an event (It was Arignar Anna’s birthday!) and I thought would it be my introduction to the political class. He said that he has read about me in a Tamil magazine in a saloon while waiting for his turn and that led to his reading the book ‘Born to Run’. He stated that he has graduated to barefoot running and has inspired a set of youngsters in his town to take up long distance running. Talk of the power of the media! While I was about to ask him about his name and job, a scooter bumped into a parked car and fell down with the young rider thrown on the ground. We rushed to help him. The boy had a bout of fits and we helped him endure the episode politely turning down the people coming forward to give him a metal object. I quietly slipped away to complete my run feeling good about a chance to help a kid ( inwardly feeling sad that my repeated requests to them to wear helmets and not drive rashly goes unheeded!) and having met an admirer!

While on the topic of rash driving, the scene on the Cathedral road was gory today morning with lots of smashed auto rickshaws. This is the place where many of these are parked and drivers sleep in their parked vehicles. I had thought that it was another rash two wheeler riders doing, but, it transpires it was a drunk racing car driver who killed one of the drivers and smashed a few autos.