When a junior police officer scores three goals in a inter-zone state police hockey meet what would you expect his captain to tell him during half-time?
'Hey, do you know who the goalie is? It is Walter Davaram!' (Davaram was City Police Commissioner and went on to become DGP).
And what would you expect Davaram to tell the successful player in the opposite camp?
'Hey, I don't mind you scoring goals against me but don't bang the ball into my body!'
The most colourful stories you can get to listen to are from Anlgo-Indians. They tell them straight, with the original colour and a dash of humour.
I heard dozens of anecdotes of the community, the city and its life at a very unique event that Harry Maclure put together to celebrate the contribution of Anglo Indians to hockey.
Harry edits and publishes a wonderful quarterly called 'Anglos In The Wind' from his hearth in Anna Nagar. This magazine tells stories everybody can enjoy though it focuses on one community. Now and then, Harry also puts together events that celebrate the Anglos.
Last week, it was a toast to hockey.
About 20 teams from all over the country played a tourney at the Mayor Radhakrishnan stadium in Egmore. The soft drizzle and the misty mornings set the atmosphere for the battle on the astro turf and though there were a few gashes, the games were fun, I was told.
As a teenager living on the edge of Narasinghapuram I used to join my Anglo-Indian friends when the local team played in the league. City league hockey used to be tough, lively and prized.
On a given evening, a local team could rattle the India team which, to a point had many Anglos too.
Stanley Bruit, now a resident of Australia specially flew down for Harry's celebration. He did not have the chance to convince the local hockey teams made up of Anglos who are 60 years plus.
Stanley took his VRS as Assistant Commissioner of Police in the city and he was one of the guests at the Dance and Dinner Show Harry hosted in San Thome's St. Bede's Anglo Indian High School, once a cradle for hockey.
Stanley and his colleagues regaled us with a flood of anecdotes which took us back to the heydays of the Madras City Police and of Anglo-Indians here. Perhaps, two would be appropriate to retell.
A strapping Stanley had played a great match at the Madras Gymkhana and after the game the then Police Commissioner came up to him and asked. "Would you like to join the Police?"
Stan said no and told his father what had happened. His father was aghast.
"Sonny, you don't say no when the Police Commissioner offers you a job!"
Singaravelu was present when Stan played well again at another match.
"Aren't you the boy I spoke to last time?"
'Yes sir!"
'Would you like to join the police?"
"Yes sir!"
In a year's time Stanley was in the Madras City Police.
When the K. Bhaskaran-led India Olympic team came to play some warm-up matches in Egmore against the City Police, the score showed 4-0 at half time in favour of the Police!
The India coach came into the local camp and patted the boys.
"Can you guys go slow, please don't demoralise our boys!"
Said Stanley at the Dinner, "We used to practise everyday at Egmore and we could beat any team here."
January 16, 2010
January 09, 2010
Dayakattam .. Kotsu .. Sugarcane!
Have you come across a simple game which requires the use of sugarcane pieces?
We came across one in Andimadam.
This is a town on the Kumbakonam-Vridhachalam road.
It is sugarcame country so the roads are dominated by labouring trucks that groan under the weight of stacked sugarcane which gives these vehicles the look of a overgrown porcupinish hairstyle.
This is not the best of times for sugarcane colonies,
it seems.
Not if you go by the standard posters printed in all-green and pasted on public and private spaces.
The demand for better prices has been in the air for some time and even the extraordinary mist is not dampening the spirits of these farmers.
We should not have been on this road. Ours was to have been the Ariyalur-Perambalur route to get back to base.
But driver Sukumar seemed to have pressed hard while we dozed off and then come to grief when the rumbling sugarcame trucks rode over the potholed highway faster than our car.
We stopped at Andimadam for tea at a roadside eatery. That is when we noticed two simple schoolboys playing with a sugarcane piece. One of them faced away from the other, tossed the piece in the air and teased the other to catch it.
If it was dropped, the cane was measured on the ground and points toted. A third person, a young man seated on a cycle doubled up as the umpire and scorer.
We were too tired to get up and take a closer look at the game but the simplicity and innocence of it got
our fascination.
The fascination for simple things of life marks the annual Mylapore Festival which begins on January 21 and runs for four days.
There is no place for razzmatazz, shooting stars
and loudness.
You can draw your best kolam on one street, take a look at a textile print demo in another, buy idlis and gostu in another and settle down to theru-koothu in the square.
This is a festival for everybody - not just for Mylaporeans.
So this is the time to tell your friends and relatives to mark the dates and be here. In Mylapore.
Don’t be surprised if you came across a sugarcane
eating contest.
The info is at www.mylaporefestival.com
We came across one in Andimadam.
This is a town on the Kumbakonam-Vridhachalam road.
It is sugarcame country so the roads are dominated by labouring trucks that groan under the weight of stacked sugarcane which gives these vehicles the look of a overgrown porcupinish hairstyle.
This is not the best of times for sugarcane colonies,
it seems.
Not if you go by the standard posters printed in all-green and pasted on public and private spaces.
The demand for better prices has been in the air for some time and even the extraordinary mist is not dampening the spirits of these farmers.
We should not have been on this road. Ours was to have been the Ariyalur-Perambalur route to get back to base.
But driver Sukumar seemed to have pressed hard while we dozed off and then come to grief when the rumbling sugarcame trucks rode over the potholed highway faster than our car.
We stopped at Andimadam for tea at a roadside eatery. That is when we noticed two simple schoolboys playing with a sugarcane piece. One of them faced away from the other, tossed the piece in the air and teased the other to catch it.
If it was dropped, the cane was measured on the ground and points toted. A third person, a young man seated on a cycle doubled up as the umpire and scorer.
We were too tired to get up and take a closer look at the game but the simplicity and innocence of it got
our fascination.
The fascination for simple things of life marks the annual Mylapore Festival which begins on January 21 and runs for four days.
There is no place for razzmatazz, shooting stars
and loudness.
You can draw your best kolam on one street, take a look at a textile print demo in another, buy idlis and gostu in another and settle down to theru-koothu in the square.
This is a festival for everybody - not just for Mylaporeans.
So this is the time to tell your friends and relatives to mark the dates and be here. In Mylapore.
Don’t be surprised if you came across a sugarcane
eating contest.
The info is at www.mylaporefestival.com
January 02, 2010
What is jottings?
What is Jottings all about?
And what am I doing here?
As I write the very first column for the new year 2010, I thought I would look back and look forward.
On Jottings.
When I started the column 17 years ago, there were two simple guidelines for myself. Nothing more. And that can make writing a tad difficult.
One. The column is not an editorial. It is a freewheeling column.
Two. It tries to focus on neighbourhoods and communities and all that is part of them.
After all, Jottings is written for a neighbourhood newspaper and almost 100% of what goes into the pages must be in that spirit.
I have an open mind on the subjects that I choose to write on. Some evolve as the week progresses, some keep bothering you, some come as surprises and some are simple and straight.
The easiest part is in the writing. It probably takes five minutes on the Mac.
Do I have a writer’s block?
Anybody who enjoys the world and the people in it and also write cannot have a writer’s block. Not even the 41 degrees of Madras summer makes me sweat a pint extra.
However, I dwell on some public issues a tad longer.
Issues that must be stated and most importantly issues that people are afraid of, shy away from or are uninterested in.
Increasingly, people are keeping to themselves. Or refuse to take a stand.
That is why the state and its minions run roughshod on us.
At times, Jottings has been strident. There is a need to be so. When I look around, I realise there are very few voices in the city that continue to speak for communities, for people or on issues.
The joy of life inspires this column too. Be it the Renigunta act of our young friends in Broadway, the cheeky plans of young activists in Besant Nagar or the Veda Patasala I rediscovered yesterday on a Mylapore street.
Thankfully, this column does not carry an illustration of a photograph.
If it did, the first Jottings for 2010 would have gone without a picture because Saravanan, one of our photographers spent the day in hospital with his wife to welcome a new born.
And what am I doing here?
As I write the very first column for the new year 2010, I thought I would look back and look forward.
On Jottings.
When I started the column 17 years ago, there were two simple guidelines for myself. Nothing more. And that can make writing a tad difficult.
One. The column is not an editorial. It is a freewheeling column.
Two. It tries to focus on neighbourhoods and communities and all that is part of them.
After all, Jottings is written for a neighbourhood newspaper and almost 100% of what goes into the pages must be in that spirit.
I have an open mind on the subjects that I choose to write on. Some evolve as the week progresses, some keep bothering you, some come as surprises and some are simple and straight.
The easiest part is in the writing. It probably takes five minutes on the Mac.
Do I have a writer’s block?
Anybody who enjoys the world and the people in it and also write cannot have a writer’s block. Not even the 41 degrees of Madras summer makes me sweat a pint extra.
However, I dwell on some public issues a tad longer.
Issues that must be stated and most importantly issues that people are afraid of, shy away from or are uninterested in.
Increasingly, people are keeping to themselves. Or refuse to take a stand.
That is why the state and its minions run roughshod on us.
At times, Jottings has been strident. There is a need to be so. When I look around, I realise there are very few voices in the city that continue to speak for communities, for people or on issues.
The joy of life inspires this column too. Be it the Renigunta act of our young friends in Broadway, the cheeky plans of young activists in Besant Nagar or the Veda Patasala I rediscovered yesterday on a Mylapore street.
Thankfully, this column does not carry an illustration of a photograph.
If it did, the first Jottings for 2010 would have gone without a picture because Saravanan, one of our photographers spent the day in hospital with his wife to welcome a new born.
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