Seeking Mahaperiyava's blessings

Last year when everything seemed one step to the grave; my train had no energy left and vultures hovering around for scavenging, metaphorically of course, so dire was my broken spirits. T H Iyer mama would encourage in his own way, first he said: try Vinayagar Agaval chanting.  The next month he said, “Go to Kanchipuram and seek Mahaperiyava’s blessing.”

            Mahaperiyava is the venerated Acharya of the Kanchi Kamakoti Peetham who lived to the ripe age of nearly 100 before he passed over in 1994. My family – every Shaivite Tamil Brahmin family is either attached to the Kanchi Mutt or the Sringeri Mutt– is attached to the Kanchi mutt, meaning our ancestors regarded the Kanchi Acharyas as our family gurus for source of guidance and inspiration. This is not a small thing, almost every year we met our Acharyas and pay respects.

            So somewhere in July or August, 2016, I went to Kanchipuram for a pradakshina around Mahaperiyava’s Samadhi eleven times fervently praying for my redemption. I was dying a slow death and smell of the other side at the nostrils; so when Iyer mama suggested this visit it felt natural and “maybe I should exhaust this source too”. My life miraculously turned around over the last 6 months – thanks to MINDFULNESS studies and my mind after two years of SLEEP pulled itself up and found renewed vigour and purpose. This is a miracle beyond my power of words to convey.

            In the last week of July, 2017 I had this “thanksgiving” visit idea pop in my mind almost to a divine call. Like this thought flashed and I immediately said: let me go to Kanchipuram.

I chose 1^st August, 2017 for the date.  I left Besant Nagar at 6:15 and took a bus to Kanchipuram at Tambaram Sanatorium Mofusil depot; the fare is Rs. 38. We left Tamabaram at 7;20 and reached K at 8:45. Travelling through state highway, you get a glimpse of the picturesque Tamil land; school girls in pleats on  oil dripped heads with jasmine (malipoo) and you feel all is well with the world.

            At the Mutt, I bought a rose garland for Rs. 50 (those people are an animated lot and good souls). Walked 12 rounds around the Samadhi; wonder of wonders got an opportunity to speak to the current Acharya Vijendra Sarawathi.

With hands folded I said: I am Sathyanarayanan from Chennai.”

He asked: What do you do? I am content writer.

He still persisted: What do you write on? I said feebly, “Mainly a creative writer, I worked in Times of India but that was some years before.”  

It does not feel right to say: I am unemployed right now and I have come for your blessings or rewind the tape, “Last year I was drowning and thanks to Mahaperiyava’s grace I have sufficiently recovered.”

As Iyer mama suggested, I told the Acharya, “I am a friend of T H Iyer mama; he stays in the same neighbourhood.”

Believe it or not, Sri Vijendra Saraswathi said,”Yeah, I know German Iyer.”

He gave me vibhuti and kum-kum for prasadam packets as I prostrated falling with the burdens of a massive body and super heavy arthritis.

This was sufficient for a Mutt official to wait on me as he led me to Sowmya Arvind Sitaraman.  She is a middle-aged woman in 9 yards and a face that shone with lustre for a bright round face and large bindi.

She asked, “What do you do? What are the topics you write?”

Again I don’t answer such questions well except a meek, “I am a creative writer, I used to work for Femina, then Tattvaloka.  My last assignment was in a gulf as an editor to a Health Magazine.”

I found Ms. Sowmya quite aggressive; the nature of questioning felt more like an interview than two strangers having a small talk. She talked about different types of chanting before introducing herself, “I am author of this book “An introduction to South Indian Festivals” and a documentary film producer.” One look at her, the accents and you’d think: this woman must be either from USA or Europe. Later on, I found that she was a person with some claim to worldwide status. 

She asked about the purpose of my Kanchipuram visit and I said, “Last year I was down in the darkest depression and I came here for Mahaperiyava’s blessings. It worked and this is my thanksgiving trip.”

Then we got into a tangle, something provoked in me as I needlessly went on a counter offensive, “Actually I am more a Buddhist than a Tamil Brahmin. I don’t perform daily Sandhya Vandanams and monthly tharpanams.”

            The worldwide fame of “An introduction to South Indian festival’ reacted like a spring coil, “By not doing the tharpanams, you are making your ancestors go thirsty.”

            If I had an ounce of wisdom, I would have beamed, nodded wisely, and shrank away. But I am a 48 year moron as I rallied forth on a tennis court in which I was sure to lose the game, “Please don’t give me this guilt trip. I have settled my personal debts with those alive and dead.”

            This interaction spoilt the mood a bit though I continued to be high. I was in a pious mind for the 11 pradakshina around the Samadhi and the current pontiff spoke to me. So on balance, this was more than I could have bargained for. 

            I came out of the Mutt an hour later and got into a share auto. The fare came to Rs. 5 and my wallet had just one note: Rs.500. I shrugged my shoulders for apologies and the driver said, “it’s okay sir. Maybe next time, you will get into my auto with the correct fare.”

            Had a sumptuous breakfast at 10:30 am – my tummy was fast filling with gas for I have been hungry since waking up at 5:00 – and the Rs. 500 note changed. Hailed a bus to Chennai and this went through Sriperumbudur, Poonamallee, Madharavoyal and Koyembedu.  Each time a bus enters Chennai, they take a different route. I went to Kanchipuram in under two hours in the onward and now it was four hours for me to get back to Besant Nagar. A personal car would have covered the distance in 90 minutes. Maybe, for next year’s thanksgiving I have this toy too was a remnant thought of a good productive day. 

M90 Issues –finally make peace

The “MIG Flat owners” meeting was scheduled on 29^th July, at 4:00 pm. Arun Kailasam of Kaar had come in the morning and we had a wonderful lunch, it was his way of ensuring I had company. I rearranged the furniture in the house hoping at least 10-12 people would attend to my invite. I went to the local grocery for 1.5 L Fanta and Bovonto (it’s a local grape flavour which I fancy!!).

            At 4:00 pm just Santhanam of M102 turned up; Suloch joined from downstairs – I was expecting at least 5 families attendance of the 15 I had invited. We waited for a while, gossiped on flat matters and it was damp squid show as any – in fact I took pictures of Santhanam saying: at least there is one Madrasi left with a conscience on these “land grabbing” issues. And importantly, one person gracious enough to my invite

            Santhanam said: if we are sensible, we will form an association but we don’t have any social spirit even in protecting our own self-interests. That day I resolved: fuckin sell this flat and go. 28 years I have been in this area and one person responded to my plea. Later I realized; this is the sign of our times. Everyone frightfully busy doing nothing.

Suloch’s counsel:

Suloch’s one month vacation was drawing to a close and the family was busy with last minute purchases and visiting friends before they go back to Lagos, Nigeria for office duties. He advised, “Sathya, don’t lose heart. You have done all that is possible to drive these SYNAPSE pests out. Why not try God?”

             Suloch is an ex-preacher and a lot of evangelical spirit. He explained: Jesus Christ died on the cross for your sins and so you are already deemed. Just submit your problems to him and he will solve it for you. Give me a year and I am sure God will work his miracles; HE never lets down honest, hardworking people.  

            I had to agree; my one year efforts coming to nought. Faith or no faith, I shook hands saying: Thanks Brother. Your one month stay has given me lot of tonic and strength to take on these rascals.

            I still had two more leads: Dinamalar and Ramaniyam.

Dinamalar:  This is one of the largest Tamil dailies and T H Iyer mama said: Speak to the MD’s secretary, refer my name and they may send a reporter and publish your plight. I kept calling and Ms. Kala advised: Send me a draft of your complaint with pictures and I will talk to my editors. I complied but nothing came out of it. I fail to understand how a land grab in a posh Besant nagar has a zero reading interest value especially when an ex-MP’s daughter is involved. Maybe, the media is not independent as we assume

Ramaniyam: Bala, more a business contact than a friend, said: Sathya, I will help you sell your apartment for the best price. But you must pay me a commission of 1%. I nodded saying “I am looking at 1.4 crores” (realistically 1. 2 is the going rate).

            The Iyengar lady at M105 (this building is right behind mine) said: The SYNAPSE people brought this flat for 2. 0 crores. I whistled and realized 1.5 for my M90/4 is a just price. No idiot would buy this flat at that price for residential purposes but any smart businessman will – he can likewise have a separate 40 ft gate this side of the building, a private generator, signage signs and this apartment faces the main road. I made some enquiries and someone at M94 said: I get a lot offers in the 1.5 to 1.75 crore range but this price is ONLY for ground floors; they are no takers for first and second floors.

            I approached Suloch and suggested, “Why don’t we sell our apartments to one single buyer for 3.5 crores – you take 2.0 for being the ground floor and I take the rest.” These apartments have become PRIME COMMERCIAL PROPERTIES and we can’t fight a trend. With this money, we can buy new apartments in Besant nagar itself and nearer the sea minus this vehicular traffic and shops. Suloch said, “Give me some time; I intend to stay for now. But if there is a good offer, I will always consider.”  

            Then Bala said, “Sathya, I will introduce you one of the biggest builders in Chennai. He has over 100 properties in Chennai and you can make a trade-in; sell M90/4 to him and he’ll give an apartment of your choice and pay the differentials. You will have a new house and at least 30-40 lacs excess in cash.”

            So I went along and met Mr. Jagannathan, Managing Director, Ramaniyam (truly one of the most respected builders in the city). I told him my horror stories of SYNAPSE people and how this flat has suddenly lost its charms.

I said, “Sir, I did my best complaining to the Chennai Corporation and Thiruvanmiyir Police but nobody wants to help, so I am inclined to sell if I get a good price.”  

            Mr. J has a lot of charisma and a strong voice. He advised, “Don’t sell it now for it will be a distress sale. I will put you on my lawyers and this is fit case; you can get a stay order from the judge, this is a text book case for unauthorized constructions.”  

            I asked, “I am not rich that I can spend on courts and lawyers. But how much would the process cost?”

            He said: 15 -20 k and I assented: something I can dispense with.

            He promised to give his lawyer’s contacts the next day; I chased him for two weeks and kept hitting a brick wall before realizing that it was never his intent to help me.

Peace of mind finally:

Suloch went to Africa in the first week of August. I wrote to him saying: I am fed up and exhausted; I want to sell and go. Each time, I see the water logging at the foot of the staircase, I feel like murder.

            Not for nothing is Suloch a great leader in the church, he writes back: Sathya, no one is troubling you. These people came and put up this CLINIC because M90/3 and M90/5 allowed them. Why should you drive yourself nuts for water-logging? Learn to ignore and take care of your interests. You fought ALONE taking on powerful interests for a year and you are no coward. SELL the flat by all means but it should be for your purpose not because of corrupt, land-grabbing doctors.

            I sensed the wisdom of patience. I also saw this as an opportunity to practice MINDFULNESS. In any situation, I have ONLY three options – change the situation to my liking, or reconcile to changed status when it is beyond my ability, and lastly, just walk away. 

As Suloch advised, I finally reconcile to peace. I accept that I cannot force the authorities to act. This SYNAPSE issue no longer agitates me. My Mindfulness meditation finally works: I am able to grin and bear it. I am gaining in wisdom leaps and bounds.  I think, I wait, and I adjust. 

Post Script: At the beach, Mr Krishnamurthy, retired from Electricity board, furnished the concluding thought: Sathya, think that you have donated the FREE SPACE to SYNAPSE people. The good thing about a mind is you can always give any troubling thought a good spin. I saw the humour and shook his hands.  

M90 Issues – Inviting MIG owners

Mani’s idea made immediate and practical sense: Indian democracy does not always work as per the rule book but the corrupt system is amenable to mob pressure. I drafted a letter in ten minutes which essentially said: I am Sathyanarayanan, who has been staying in M90/4 since 1989.  Last year a greedy and corrupt doctor opened SYNAPSE clinic in my building without my permission with these violations for DAYLIGHT robbery:

- 40 ft private gate,

- Private industrial generator,

- 30 ft signage

All these building violations have resulted in stray dogs and strangers into the building, compromising safety and hygiene.

The invitation continued: As you might all know M93 went first and we are second at M90, tomorrow it will your turn when Apollo Hospital consultants with nexus to politicians will invade your building with evil intentions and profit motives. So please support me and we will put the corrupt people in their places. Please make yourself available at M90 on 29^th July at 4:00 pm for MIG flat owners meeting.

            I went to Student Xerox with a pen-drive and got 20 copies of this message in A4 in simple plain white paper – no fancy, no frills,

            I gave the first invitation to Suloch, at M90/2 and he felt the message was apt, crisp and persuasive.

Action @ M105:

            I went to M105 which is a MIG block right behind M90. I have not gone knocking on stranger’s doors since my summer training for MBA in 1991 and later John Kuruvilla made me run with questionnaires to the watch dealers in Bangalore in 1994 in the Contract advertising phase – so you could I see that I am not comfortable in this chore of accosting people. By nature I am recluse; if you are my neighbour for a decade I might just know your name and maybe throw in a smile once a month.

            The Iyengar lady is quite a vocal voice and she read my A4 and said: good, we will attend though I have a wedding to attend around the same time. Right above at M105/4, another lady said: Sure, you have a just cause. Please hand your A4 and I’ll read it when I am back from picking my daughter from the tuitions. I asked: Is there anyone I can approach in this building? She said: try M105/6.

            I rang the doorbell and when I said: I am your neighbour and not a pest salesman. You see, SYNAPSE people have come and despoiled my building. She immediately made me come inside and offered a sofa seat: I am so glad that you are organising a meeting. Unfortunately I am bound for Karaikal tonight. We must meet some other time and she offered her visiting card. It read: Anu Chandramouli, BJP state secretary. I couldn’t believe my good fortune – the third door I knock and I get the biggest fish in town.

Action @ M102:

This is a building where an iron pressing man has made it his office!  One house was locked over litigation for three years now. I saw visible signs of despoliation with broken windows. At M102/4, Mr. Santhanam heard my case patiently and advised: First, we must form an association and register it. I said: whatever it takes, but please come on Saturday. Santhanam directed me to M102/5 where I met a retired man from National Highways, Mr. Perumal. I made the now practised pitch: SYNAPSE by opening a clinic at M90 has robbed us for our peace. Please support me.  

Action @ M95:

So far I knocked on five doors and all of them were decent and gave patient ears. They made me sit on chairs and offered drinking water. But approaching strangers and enlist them on my cause felt like an Eureka Forbes salesman – I am a creative writer and salesmanship is not my cup of tea, in fact it gives me the jitters. But I was trying to save my house and that was motivation enough to go knocking.

            At M95/5, Mrs. Vishwanathan said: I know all about your building. I spoke to M90/3 lady Ms. Kalpagam (my neighbour who sold out to SYNAPSE and now their brand ambassador espousing the clinic’s cause. Had this stupid neighbour of mine saw eye-to-eye with me on this issue, we could have stopped “Quick Gun Murugan” in his tracks a long while back) and she said: it is our service to society.

            I almost laughed our aloud: Ma’am first this is not Kalpagam’s property to distribute it on dole. It is my COMMON AREA and if she is so inclined for charity, let her do so on her income. As to service to society, this is a private clinic with profit motive. This fellow has spent over 10 lacs on refurbishments and he will milk his patients to cover these expenses. Besides no honest doctor would be a land grabber. 

            Mrs. Vishwanathan said: there are only tenants in this building, so don’t waste your time knocking their doors. Just try  the immediate neighbour at M95/3.  On ringing the doorbell, an old woman opened the door. Seeing her weak and emaciated, I had no heart to give a sales pitch. I said: Ma’am, she this A4 sheet and please attend a meeting on Saturday at M90.

Action @ M94:

I made a similar appeal to Mr. Meenakshi who works at Accenture. Their mother knew my mother and common friends and so she offered me a tea. The young son at Accenture said: I appreciate your efforts but unfortunately I am on an office tour in the weekend. But I am so interested and curious – this is my visiting card.  Please drop in an email as to what transpired at the meeting.

            I met the downstairs people at M94 and a familiar face at the temple in Rudram chanting. We smiled and I thrust the A4 in his hands saying: You are invited for a MIG Flat owners meeting on Saturday.

Action @ M92:

I met a very interesting Vasudevan, retired from service. He said: This Nathan fellow’s generator used to rattle at high decibels and when I complained, those people threatened: if you keep complaining, we’’ll uproot all your ACs for they also mutter! Strange rationale thugs in DMK and AIADMK use to threaten retired men whose only need is a little tranquillity. He complained about his neighbour at M92/4: Raghu is cheap that they refuse to pay even for sewage blockage issues saying that it is the problem of the ground floor flats. Bloody hell, what obtuse logic, it is not as though the sewage from first and second floor evaporate into air! They even have separate maintenance for ground floor residents and those in the first and second floor. They contention is that they will not pay for sweeping the portico as it only benefits the ground floor residents. Vasudevan said to a classic that found immediate resonance in me: I resided in Delhi for decades and Punjabis are loud, gross and verily the devil but they are broadminded, Madrasis are chors (narrow minded). 

At M92/4 met Raghu’s wife and she said, “We are busy as my son is going to US on Sunday for Masters, so kindly excuse us.”

I came back to base at M90 and gave an invite to Jon Ranjit my overhead neighbour at M90/6.

Learning:

I was on the streets for an hour. Actually, I found most of the residents are not even on talking terms in their adjacent flat people, and often blow hot and cold. Queer thing was all of them wanted bonding and good neighbourly affections but none knew how. The daily strain of living for decades made for frozen hearts and bad blood. This came as a great relief to me: it is just not my sisters – Viji and Latha – who are selfish but the entire world.

            What transpired at the meeting on 29^th July on a Saturday evening is a tale I carry to the next post. Please click on the label M90 for all these juicy tales, it is recommended you start from the beginning. 

M90 Issues – friend’s advice

(This is a continuation from the previous post, so any reader is advised to go down for a browse and land here).

There are certain things you take for granted in life – no stray dogs inside the building compound, no trespassers, and certainly no signage boards. But with SYNAPSE PAIN & SPINE Clinic inside M90 premise, I lost all peace. Now the open gates were an invitation to stray dogs, strangers knocking for consultation and that terrible generator making a hell of a noise.

            I knew that chasing the Chennai Corporation people or Electricity Board was a futile exercise. They had sold their souls a long time back. You sadly hit upon this truth: Chennai is a fuckin corrupt city. Power and influence greases hands; this is daylight robbery and none made answerable. Why? Dr. Karthic Babu Natarajan, Quick Gun Murugan to us, had the ears of the state government. By which time, I lost all respect for him both as a medical practitioner and even a human being – no self-respecting person would build his empire grabbing lands from others. If his motive was money making, why take the trouble to go all over USA or Europe and get those fancy degrees? Or do medical students compromise on ethics, since they spent so much on medical education, prone to using patients as a revenue stream and a business model.

            This building M90 faces the main road and there are lot of commercial establishments eager to set up shop on the road.  M93 went first, usurped by Nathan Dental Clinic five years back, so SYNAPSE had a template and went about replicating it in M90. Of course, they would not have bargained for a nuisance like me to come in their way.

            Last month Suloch of M90/2 came for a monthly vacation and now I had one ally to complain and groan about this new invader. I wrote to Dinamalar and other newspapers besides writing to the Chennai Corporation Commissioner and marking a copy to the Synapse people. For the first time in 12 months I had the balls to mark a copy to them as I went to town complaining on the building violations – remember a 40 ft private gate, private generator, and lots of signage can test the patience of a saint.  But at the same time, I can’t be foolhardy. I stay alone, I am an easy target. These doctors – ex-MP’s daughter and access to top leadership in AIADMK - don’t look like they would serve in a Mother Theresa centre; rather they would slit my throat if I made too much noise and stood in the way.

            So I wrote to Radha Rajan, a famous Besant Nagar resident and animal activist, saying: If something happens to me, straightaway the needle of suspicion should go to these people. Don’t allow them to go scot-free. She advised me: Sathya, these people are garbage (Sakadai in Tamil makes it more compelling and served with a force), so why get caught needlessly: SELL and GO.

            I sought Bala’s advice; he is a street smart guy – he used me on copywriting assignments in a freelance capacity and not pay my bills. But he is a friendly chap and I turned to him in desperation. He echoed Radha’s suggestion – Sathya, sell and go. Buy peace of mind, this tangle is not worth it. It has you running from pillar to post and banging a dead wall feel to it.

            I was outraged, “Bala, this is my home. How can I allow dacoits to enter my front door, I do nothing about it. I will place my life on the line and save this?”

            Bala asked, “What do you have in mind? More petitions to MLA, or councillor or what?”

            I said,” Bala, I plan to have a signage board on my side of the building outer. I will hang a flexi-print banner reading: Save MIG flats from greedy doctor clinics or some such thing.”

            Bala asked, “What will you achieve by this?”

            “Maybe, some newspaper guy or a post on Facebook and given an initial thrust can become viral. If not for anything, this simple banner will earn SYNAPSE a bad image when patients come visiting.”

            I did not stop with this, “Bala, I plan to print 300 copies of a brochure and distribute to friends and strangers on Eliot’s beach and the Ratnagiriswarar temple. I know at least a hundred faces and so there is no trouble reaching out. If the civic authorities won’t take my complaint seriously, I will generate enough word-of-mouth publicity of my own. Let those SYNAPSE bastards know there is a battle on their hands. There will be no easy surrender.”

            Bala being the street-smart man said, “Sathya, I wish you all the best. But when you take on powerful interests, you are just a moment from being run over by a truck. These fellows are thugs, it is for you to decide whether you want to live the rest of your life with a broken spine or maimed hands.”

            Instantly I saw the merit in Bala’s assessment of risks. It sounded nearer home.  After this counsel, I stopped that “flexi-print banner idea” and “distributing brochures to Besant Nagar residents.”

            I sought Manikandan’s help but he also said the same thing: Sathya, one person can’t take on a system. If you get a good price, SELL and GO. Otherwise organize a meeting and involve others in the neighbourhood – Indian democracy does not work on brains or rules but it runs on the strength of the mob.

            So this got me started on this idea: there are 6 MIG buildings. Of the six, two buildings were ravaged by Apollo consultants for personal greed.  Apollo Hospitals already saddled with a dubious reputation for lousy treatment and now its consultant doctors specializing in land-grab in Besant Nagar. So I had at least 36 apartments to approach, make my case, and seek their support.  My rationale was: if two have gone down the drain and we did not wake to stop the intruders now, the rest of the owners too would be at high risk of their own building going to dogs.  So my pitch would be: today I suffer and tomorrow will your turn. So why not support me a little now.

            This idea appealed to me; this is still a Gandhian way of protest. There is no danger of SYNAPSE people hiring thugs to eliminate as I go canvassing; they know the system too well to worry about reputation or morality.  We shall see the “MIG Flat owners” campaign in the next blog post.  

M90 Issues – the problem

Without ado, let’s get straight away in this tale.

            Towards the end of 2015, an apartment in my building M90/1, was sold to a doctor. That fellow kept refurbishing, reconfiguring by smashing and shovelling the rooms. The other residents adding up to “we” were worried that the new entrant may dig so deep as to knock the building down; maybe he was in search of some hidden treasures. We were disturbed, rattled by this endless shovelling; but we kept quiet hoping it will go away.

For the next three months they kept despoiling the ground floor apartment – with all those noise and heaps of construction refuse – we held our nerves and patience. Hoping someday they will settle down.

            Then the new owner – Dr. Karthic Babu Natarajan – started to occupy the FREE COMMON SPACE by having new tiles laid; that’s when I woke up. Within a month, this rapacious doctor had installed a 40 ft private gate, 30 ft of signage, a private generator and by now I realized this fellow was no ordinary Apollo Hospital consultant but a veteran land grabber with access to political power. His partner in crime was Dr. Vanmathy Venkatapathy, daughter of an ex-MP in the 14^th Lok Sabha. It was almost like they could do anything they wished, the Chennai Corporation, Tamil Nadu Electricity Board and Thiruvanmiyur Police would turn the other way.

            I was livid. These rapacious, avaricious, and corrupt doctors just did not bother. It felt that in this building the rest of five residents don’t count at all. We have staying in this building since 1974 and suddenly it is sold to a rowdy who was robbing our lands and devaluating our properties. Drunk with absolute power, the goons violated all building violations with impunity – as though they were collectors and zamindars and we were serfs expected to wait outside with folded hands -despite our protests.

            They purchased M90/1  - M90/2 is in Africa, M90/3 and M90/5 were cajoled and persuaded so much so that these residents acted as SYNAPSE CLINIC”s personal assistants. I at M90/4 was livid while M90/6 did not bother. The Corporation people sensed my helplessness and they had an alibi for their inaction: We would have taken action had at least a couple of residents raised their voice.

            So the past 12 months this apartment lost its charm. The 10 ft open gate from 9:00 am to 9:00 pm is an open invitation to stray dogs, the private generator makes noises above the permissible decibel levels, that I thought: Better to sell this place if I find a right price.

            It appalled me to realize that no one rose in protest at the flagrant violations. The M105 lady who would be disturbed by the generator kept mum. She is some sort of a leader and nothing seem to stir anyone. As for me, I was a raving and ranting idiot: how could this happen in a posh colony like Besant Nagar?? How could a metropolis like Chennai be in the grips of thugs and goons?

            I went complaining to the local civic bodies – Corporation, Electricity Board, Thiruvanmiyur Police under whose jurisdiction our building falls – and not a whimper. The constable said after a scrutiny said: These are big fishes; no common person can violate with such gay abandon as though a private property.  I sent tweets to PMO but Modi was busy on overseas tours and demonization and so he gave this petition a miss. I wrote to Urban Affairs Minister Mr. Venkaiah Naidu but he was busy in Parliamentary Affairs duties. No response, as dead as a dodo from Delhi. Besides they can always say: this is a state subject.

            So I approached Adyar publications – Adyar Times and Adyar Talk with pictures and this blog post. One felt this was private matter angst (stupid fellow, how can an ex-MP’s daughter swallowing prime property in a posh colony be private? Had I been the editor, I would run this story for a week for this has lot of middle-class eyeballs potential written all over it) while the other felt that this is a “common interest” problem but for somehow reason did not pursue it. 

            In desperation I wrote to Mumbai Mirror editor Faye D’Souza who shouts on Urban Debate each night: This is shameful, despicable on the conditions of Mumbai roads and that damn Bellandur lake in Bangalore. I thought my case would appeal to her social conscience but she ignored it as they saw no story in my plight and no TRPs.  Only Mohandas Pai, a panellist on Arnab Goswami's debates, responded saying: this is a fit case for a police complaint after reading my blog post. But then he resides in Bangalore and not Chennai where DMK and AIADMK are a law unto themselves. 

            I told myself that I will take this case to United Nations Secretary General if need be. This is my home for the last 28 years and I am not going to allow corrupt doctors to come into my life uninvited and throw my life out of gear – I was anyway going along that rocky road walking with a noose in hand without this added nuisance. now I steeled myself: I will die protecting my house. I will not be a coward any more.    

A drama at last, this time real one

I went to a drama “Ethu Nizhal, Ethu Nijam” on a Friday evening, 11^th August at Mylapore Fine Arts. I enjoyed the play, my first in four decades!

            Before that let me digress briefly: my knees are improving with Dr. Ramnarayan’s prescription and it gives me confidence that I can go through life without TKR (Total Knee Replacement). Suloch, my neighbour, was here for an annual monthly vacation from his work in Africa and that got me a lot of positive energy especially in these times when this building M90 is being used as a private property by the unscrupulous SYNAPSE clinic people. I even went to the extent of selling this damn flat if it fetches a good price; but then I will never have the strength of mind to carry it through – who in their right mind would walk away from Besant Nagar?

            Now back to the play.

            T H Iyer mama suggested that I write to Bombay Chanakya, a famous playwright and close associate of K Balachander. I wanted an opinion on whether “Ex-PW club” will make a good movie script. I am a creative writer, plain and simple. I have never fancied myself as a scriptwriter for movies.  But this “ex-PW club” feels a good movie script that tumbled out accidentally. And it fetches me some money in these lean days of poor earnings then it is just what the doctor (rather than banker) ordered. I wrote to Mr. Bombay Chanakya who said: I have a play coming up and you are invited.

            I dressed myself for the occasion. I started at 5:30 in a 29C and got off at Luz. I went past Devaki Hospital (they have changed the name to Meenakshi or something) searching for Mylapore Fine Arts. It was beginning to rain sharply and I had my brolly up. Someone directed me to take the private lane to Isabella and lo, I found, Mylapore Fine Arts on Musiri Subramaniam Road.

            I was drenched despite the UAE snazzy umbrella (it opens like a fired bullet shot) and walked into an almost empty AC hall. The crowd slowly built up to a over a hundred; this is the best place to see tambrahms from higher income group whose natural moorings are Carnatic concerts, Bharatanatyam dance, and Tamil dramas.

            I took a seat in the second row for one of the best seats in the house. They ring the buzzer thrice in short intervals as a precursor to the opening. I love that tradition as it gets the audience to straighten up and take a break from gossip.

             “Ethu Nizhal, Ethu Nijam” means “what is shadow and what is real?” This is a story of a struggling Carnatic singer having to cope with a useless and headstrong husband who only gives her mental tortures with constant barbs. Gurumurthy, essayed by Bombay Kumar, was outstanding as a cruel and insensitive husband. Charu, his wife, aspires to be Carnatic singer having to cope with an always annoying Gurumurthy as she supports the family through giving private tuitions and singing light music. To an already burdened Charu, enters her now divorced sister-in-law from Jamshedpur to their modest home in Mylapore. Both Kavitha Suresh as Charu and Jayashree Pritam as the scheming sister-in-law were mind-blowing in their roles. I loved the homour spun around Manargudi – Sashikala’s place. Both the accompanists, Srini and Pattabhi, were competent in supporting roles. The creative genius of Bombay Chanakya – writer and director – was in making Pattabi speak in a high pitched falsetto for a screeching female voice! Each time he opened his mouth the fun was instantaneous.

            This was a script for two hours with breaks for changing the sets. What I discovered in the hour hours; from 7:00 to 9:00pm, was that a play is the best avenue to discover the power of the language. These stage artists spoke in a rich Brahmanical dialect; I loved the idioms that have disappeared from everyday vocabulary. A play exaggerates oddities; a play is always loud, a play is live and spontaneous and it is here the Tamil language comes aloud strong and vibrant. Definitely not in the newsroom where it is formal and stiff or in the movie screens.

            This is a labour of love of Bombay Chanakya and team. The production value itself would be more than 1 lac with sound effects and stage fabrications. The gate collection would have been less than a tenth of it. The artists perform out of sheer passion.

            The last play I saw was in my school days during Ramanavami celebrations in Keys High School in Secunderabad. Those annual Manohar productions were world class in production values. I still remember the play on Vishwamithra with those grandeur sets and lightning and thunder scenes.  Now after more than 3 decades, this play by Bombay Chanakya whetted my appetite for more. I have been to Carnatic concerts, I am a great admirer of Vishaka Hari and now what remain to be explored are dance performances and more dramas.

            Any day between a drama and a Rajnikanth movie; I will choose the former. There is something old and honest about dramas. It is like revisiting an old world; a time-wrap to the parents and grandparents generation when life was lot simple and plenty of caricatures around. Now it is only whatsup and dumb assholes in the digital age for a  frightening level of homogeneity. 

Unethical Doctors in Chennai

I am a confirmed case of osteoarthritis.  The problem is so acute that I limp visibly and attract public sympathy on the road. It is quite another matter that I hardly venture out.  I consulted Dr. Velayutham in May and June before getting fortunate to consult Dr. N Ramnarayan.

            Dr. V insisted on “Total Knee Replacement” and prescribed medication for a month. I went to the nearest pharmacy “CapZ N Tabzs” on Devanathan Street, Mandavelli and procured those; it is always better to buy the medicines at the clinic’s place for it is readily available unlike coming to Besant Nagar and searching them.  But within a week, I found an alternate way of treating my swollen, immobile knees and at once these tablets had no utility.

            I kept these old medicines for a while before junking them. There was Flavojoint 500mg and that’s priced at Rs. 394 for a sheet of ten. I had 2 sheets, nearly Rs. 800 worth and I took them to the pharmacies in Besant Nagar asking: Though I have not purchased them here, can you please exchange it for a Horlicks or anything? Couple of them said: this Flavojoint is not usually prescribed; better take it to the pharmacy where you purchased.

            The tablets lay on a shelf for a month before I exerted myself on this account.  Last week, I took a bus to Mandavelli and straight to “Capz N Tabnz”. 

            The assistant at the pharmacist said, “As a policy we don’t take sold medicines back. But wait for the owner.”          

I waited for 10 minutes before another patient came with Dr.V’s prescription – he practises in the next lane – with “Flavojoint – 500mg”. I immediately knew that this doctor and pharmacy worked as a team; this ortho fellow the best saleperson of Sun Pharma for this expensive medicine. I thought: such dishonesty and so unethical.

            The owner came and I made the usual pitch: this is medicines worth Rs. 800. I purchased it from your shop last month. Please take it back, I have changed my doctors and on a new course of treatment.

            He looked at the aluminium foil tablets for expiry date and shook his head, “It’s not possible.”

            I tried one more plea, “How about a Horlicks or whatever. Anyhow I have to junk them, give me one-fourth the value and I am done.”

            The owner was foolishly short-sighted for this is a fast moving drug for him. But he said to a tone of finality, “After GST it is difficult to exchange.”

            I came out of the shop with frustration writ large, found the next municipal garbage can and junked the twin aluminium foil sheets. My heart cried: there goes my Rs. 800 down the drain. My mind cried, “Cheat of a doctor and callous pharmacy.”

            Later in the week I got to meet Mr. Srinivasan, my maternal cousin’s husband, at his posh Karpagam Garden residence. We got talking on doctors and I said, “This fellow Velayutham is a crook,” and described the Flavojoint 500 mg experience.

            Srinivasan said, “Dr. V’s father is a brilliant orthopaedic; this is the useless son spoiling his good reputation.” He then proceeded to give me his take on unethical doctors. He explained: Each time, a dentist advises root-canal treatment for a filling, I know he is dishonest.

            I smiled, “I know those kinds.”

            He continued despite my interruption, “Last year, a dentist advised me root canal and I asked him which canal.  Panama canal or Suez??”

             The sarcasm could not be more dripping and straight. If I was a doctor at the other end, I would have died if a patient spoke to me like this. But then we live in a shameless world.  

            “Another sign of a dishonest ortho is he advises “Total knee Replacement” at the first base; I hate cardiologist who recommend “by pass” surgery and ophthalmologist “Cataract” before exploring other avenues. There are doctors who are waiting on pounce on such easy goat prospects.”

            I said,” These doctors bring a bad name to the entire profession. Dr. N Sundar Bose did not diagnose my tuberculosis way back in 1998 despite being told and that led to my heart surgery six months down the line.”

            Srinivasan said,” Sathya, that’s incompetence. Here I am talking about unethical ones who prescribe surgery options for no rhyme or reason except fatten their wallets.”

            I concluded, “These doctors are no better than Vinayaka Electricals. Bugger each time he comes to change a tubelight, he will replace the entire casing.”

            Srinivasan laughed, “I know Vinayaka, corrupt as hell and a synonym for dishonesty in Adyar.  For replacing a Rs. 50 tubelight that guy will furnish a bill for Rs. 500.”

            I said,” In my life I have respect for Dr. Devi Shetty and his team. Also Sankara Nethralaya. I think Chennai is full of dishonest and unethical doctors. Say 75%”

            My cousin’s husband said,” I would place the black sheep at 40%. There are honest doctors but one-in-two would be my estimate for Chennai.”

            As for me, I said: I am going blog this experience and if anyone were to read about Dr. Velayutham and Caps N Tabsz, let them be forewarned. The medical profession fails because it does not weed out such scamsters.