Ode to a PT master

In the span of a week, I had to travel to the north-western part of the city for two diverse developments - a funeral and a wedding.

We had to go beyond Perambur on both occasions.
Thiru Vi Ka Nagar is new to me though the badlands of Pulianthope which we had to cross that afternoon are not.

We were in this nagar to pay our respect to a man who left a great impression on the lives of a whole generation of students at a school in Egmore.

Paneerselvam was a P T Master who was sportsman, coach, mentor, guide, comic and friend - all rolled in one.
Hailing from the deep south and with a degree at the YMCA College in this city, he joined our school when we were in our teens.

To him sports was serious business and since we also had Miss Neaves, another legendary sports administrator in our community, PT Master had his hands full. He had to not only coach a bunch of serious young athletes but mould the entire school.

So he set about creating drill teams like never before. In doing this he not only excited legions of kids who wanted to be in the drill teams though they had to endure his yells and sweat it out on the playground but he also created avenues for the school team to perform at city-level sports meets.

PT Master’s brand of drills became so known that our school team was invited to perform at bigger sports meets.

And if the drill team’s record was not enough, Pannerselvam ensured he stood out in a crowd with his trademark look - white cap, straight hair, colourful T-shirt, spotless white trousers and white sports shoes.

The man who earned much respect and love, inspired loads of jokes and survived a few serious health problems was taken out on his final journey, dressed in his trademark clothes, cap and shoes.

He wanted to go that way.

If Pannerselvam remains a loving memory in many hearts, Rajaratnam Stadium in Egmore is a fading memory for legions of athletes. This sports space that belongs to the Madras City Police was second home to generations of sportspeople and for the youth who lived in Egmore.

The compact, centrally located stadium was convenient for city schools to hold their Sports Meets and for talented athletes to train and toil for a place on the podium.

With the closure of this stadium some years ago, an important social space was wiped out. Thankfully, a new stadium is to be opened now but it does not have the simple, open feel that the old one offered all athletes.
Some places are part of people’s lives. If we cannot preserve them completely, we can save parts of them for the future.

Listen to the audio post here.

Recycling handbills stuffed into our Daily Newspapers

I get three newspapers at my doorstep each morning. And on the weekends, a few more. The latter however are the freesheeters of our neighbourhood, a concept that we instituted some two decades ago.

My life and my work revolves around news and information. And anything to do with news.

It is a good habit that grew on me from the time my Dad subscribed to The Mail, that popular eveninger of our city that is no more.

Reading the three dailies takes time and is worth it. But all of us who buy these dailies also have to contend with the handbills and notices that are packed between the printed pages.

What were mere rags, printed on dirty paper in single-colour are now glossy multi-fold brochures and producing them in their thousands must cost a pile.

On weekends, my dailies grow in weight by at least a quarter of a kilo, merely because the handbills are not only many but many of the same are stuffed in between.

From the local veggies store to the new salon, from promoters of apartments in Madambakkam to fixers of mosquito nettings, the variety that spills from my dailies are a torrent.

I do look at these fliers closely. Anything is of some value if you are the sort who looks closely.

In the neighbourhood where I live, the local restaurants are very aggressive with their narrow advertising.

Many of them now provide us with their entire menu card. Recently, ‘Ente Keralam’ restaurant shoved in its home delivery menu.

On a lazy recent Sunday, the single-colour menu card of a new restaurant caught my eye. More so since it claimed to promise the best seafood cooked the Kanyakumari way. My order was placed and it arrived well on time. But I am not giving it even 4/10 and hence, will not want to get back to this restaurant.

What I do go back to every morning is a gunny bag. For, after I have done with the daily newspapers, I carry the handbills and dump them in one place, to be sold off a waste to the raddiwallah when he drops by.

Can you imagine the amount of handbills waste we contend with in our homes every morning?

We may have to live with such advertising as long as it pays the people who pay for it. But there seems to be a need for a sustained effort to store and dispose the bills in a more organised manner.

We have heard of the online-driven Kuppathoti group which makes it easy for people to get rid of unwanted stuff.

Is there something we need to do to recycle handbills?

Listen to the audio post here >>>

Portuguese San Thome and Madras Day 2013

Paolo Aranha and Vera Domingues are two research scholars based in two European cities who are encouraging a small group of us interested in the Portuguese histories of Madras.

Paolo, now in Munich has done some work and published a paper or two on a subject that has links to San Thome. Vera was here recently to walk around and talk to people in order to enrich her own research.

Vera who is based in Portugal has mailed three maps of San Thome de Meilapor which look fascinating but will send me on a crazy chase if I was to start using them.

But use I will once Vera shares a few more maps and I try to draw a trail of the dozen or more churches that existed in the Portuguese fort and outside it.

That and more will take some time in the making.

The maps and other material and Paolo’s Facebook chats are also providing me the base for a small event that I wish to time with this year’s Madras Day celebration.

A decade ago, some of us floated the idea of the Madras Day to celebrate the founding of this city. We chose a day - August 22.

And we decided that any event focused on the city would be created, planned and driven by people of this city.

10 years ago, we hosted a Walk in the Fort and ran a series of events at Rajaji Hall, once the Banqueting Hall of the British era.

When it all ended that launch year, well after 9.30 p.m. my colleague Sashi Nair and I who drove these events were exhilarated and exhausted.

Today, over 100 events are held during Madras Week, and these are hosted by many people and groups.
This year the focus is on to encourage more communities in areas which have not held such an event to ideate and drive one.

After all, a Madras Week celebration is complete only when different communities in different areas celebrate it in a way they think is best.

And it can be simple and straight.

Let me share last year’s wonderful effort of a bunch of women of Sowcarpet.
The idea was simple - a Food Trail in their area. There are lots of snacks stalls in that region. All of them offer north Indian specials. And the group know most of them.

The idea was picked up and the group drew up a route. Six shops, six stops. Five guides, 3 volunteers.
And the Mint Food Trail attracted over 40 people.

So the call is going out to you and to your friends. Focus on an idea that makes this city. Draw out an event. Tell your friends and their friends about it. Make it happen.

The buzz is being shared at a web site. You can find it at www.themadrasday.in

Listen to the audio post here >>>