Sporting Moderator's Cap

In his piece, ‘About us and our Groups’, Sri Sivasubramanian Perinkulam, pities the ‘hapless moderator’ of having to sort daily “20 to 30 mails on various subjects, some abusive, arrogant, and others substandard or with spelling mistakes...” He sums up he will go mad in ten days as a moderator. Ten days is a long period. Siva-ji. I bet I will achieve it in two days, given a re-look at what is in store.

A pertinent suggestion was made to detach the incoming mail while posting comments. We are still inundated with mails incorporating everything from the beginning. (Truth be told, I have my share, having still to master response sans the incoming mail.) If as a moderator I were to enforce this suggestion I will have a tough time blocking all such mail or in deleting redundant portions by myself – after first mastering the technique, that is.

Must read, Watch this link, Worth Forwarding, Read till the end, are the patterns many of the messages are capped with, leaving recipients clueless on the possible contents. It will thus be my job to coin a heading on what each piece is about, to alert reader if it is his cup of tea or not.

I will have to be equal to the occasion to delete one piece when someone posts all his messages in duplicate. Right now probably the readers undertake this task to reduce the incoming mail to two-thirds before unloading them.

Be it so that the thought-for-the-day message is tapped from a solitary source, but gets presented by more than one. To delete one’s name will be to the discomfiture of the other. To retain both will be taxing the reader. To attribute authorship by turn will keep the Moderator on his toes.

Then there are persons, like Parasuram with a raised axe, ready to deliver fatal blows to any unsuspecting piece that comes their way. Am I supposed to prevail upon them to present their piece not with an archrival mindset, but to pack with content rather than contempt? To tone down myself such responses would be a horrendous task. And I am not supposed to do that either. But then can I let go such devastating attack unchecked?

To pre-empt such bombardment, one member has made a clever move. He ends his piece with a rider: “Not for debates or discussions, please.” Hopefully some respite for the Moderator.

If I am still left with time, I will take a chunk of it to block forwards that are already tired of several rounds.

Some in the garb of educating members on health, wealth or happiness, use the forum to promote their professional interests. I will get my terms of reference clear whether it will fall within my purview to discourage such publicity.

One member, unable to produce anything afresh, digs out decades-old pieces and makes a flamboyant display of his mediocre ability (Guessed who?). In such a case if the moderator and the contributor happens to be the same person, it will be difficult to decide whether to let him bask in his ‘past glory’.

Siva-ji, aren’t these sufficient to drive me mad in two days as a moderator?

V.V. Sundaram

www.vvsundaram.blogspot.com

25 January 2012

A Dialogue with Guru

No, this has nothing to do with the excellent book, “Dialogues with the Guru” featuring an earlier Sringeri Swamiji’s interviews with a host of truth-seekers.

This is just a mundane dialogue with my Editing professor at the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, as he returns to his office room after the Journalism class. He was a stickler for brevity, and the right word at the right place. “He talks editing, walks editing…,” to rephrase Amitabh Bachchan’s famous words in Namak Halal. He was a respectable figure. Few dared to get close to him, and the rare ones who did, never repeated it.

Excuse me, sir, I was wondering…

Don’t wonder. Just say what you want, Mister.

Okay, sir.

It is not okay. That is why I corrected you. Yes what do you want?

Sir, I was thinking…

Stop thinking; come to the point straightaway. In editing that is what you must remember. Edit your expressions as you utter them. As a budding journalist you cannot afford the l uxury of wordiness.

In fact I wanted to…

See, here again you start with ‘in fact’. It should be introduced after you have said something. Also, a fact can have the full impact of  ‘in fact’ evening without adding it. Do you get it?

I think so, sir.

Now don’t dwell on doubt. If you don’t understand, and pretend you understand, you will not understand what little you understand. Understand?

Fine.

No not fine. Instead you should have said, ‘Thank you”. As a courtesy if you added “Sir”, nothing would have gone amiss. I am not particular, but it helps you to adhere to some principles.

Thank you, sir.

Yes, what did you want to say, with the preface hopefully over now? You have been beating around the bush for quite a while.

Sir, the thing is this.

Wait a minute. Don’t use that expression again. It is a transliteration of the Hindi expression, “Baat yeh hai.” Think in English and talk in English. This applies to any language. The idea and garb should be woven closely. Please proceed.

Sir, I was wondering…sorry… I came to ask you if I could have an interview with you to publish in the Alpha journal?

I BEG YOUR PARDON?

No, nothing sir. I just came to ask you, “How are you”?

I am fine. You could have asked me that in the first instance, and we could have parted. Anyway, anything else?

Nothing sir. Thank you.

Now, what did you say your name is?

I have not said sir.

Okay, can you?

Yes sir.

Can you, I repeat?

Yes I can sir.

Then why don’t you?

You have not asked me yet, sir?

Oh my God. What’s your name?

Sundaram.

Okay, Mr Subramaniam

No sir, not Subramaniam… Sundaram.

Okay, whatever it is.

No sir, it is Sundaram, and has to be so.

All right, Mr SUNDARAM, is that fine? I can understand your anxiety to see your name in print in our Alpha Journal through an interview. But before that, can you recollect the answer you wrote to my question, “How do you prepare a copy?” (How do you go about reporting a news-item?) Instead of highlighting the essential elements, What, Where, When, Who, How, Why, as is expected of a post-graduate journalism student, I distinctly remember what answer you gave. The less said the better. So concentrate on your syllabus first. Clear? Anything else?

No, nothing. Thank you sir.

(A fan of P.G. Wodehouse, I had always wanted to recreate a scene similar to the dialogue between the domineering Bertie Wooster, the lord of the house, and the down-to-earth Jeeves, his butler. The dialogue part thus is totally a figment of my imagination. Everything else is factual. The professor was also the Managing Editor of Alpha Journal. So I gave him this imaginary interview piece with little hope that he would like himself to be projected in that light. Yes, he approved it for publication. Year 1981.)

V.V. Sundaram

19 January 2012

Mistaken Identity

Dear MS Srinivasan ji,

Delighted to read your mail and the outpour of gratitude - doesn’t matter mistaking me for 'Cleveland' Sundaram. I am not Cleveland V.V. Sundaram. In fact I am yet to visit Cleveland in life. I am just V.V. Sundaram - with no prefix or suffix. And if you insist I might at best be hailed Vadakkanthara Sundaram. Even when on phone with bank or airlines, to help them get my initials correct I avoid the customary prompting, V for Victory, again V for Victory, lest it mistakenly boosts my ego that it has been victory all the way. 

This is not the first occasion that I have been mistaken for Cleveland V.V. Sundaram. When I was looking for a bride for my second son, I got a call during my post-retirement stint in Geneva, and the girl's father spoke to me somewhat like intimate friends - just short of vaada, poda. I just couldn't figure out. I even wondered if any of my friends were playing pranks with me. Sensing a lack of enthusiasm in my response, he ultimately enquired if he was not speaking to Cleveland Sundaram. I told him I was WHO Sundaram. I hesitated even this prefix, because I ran the risk of  being mistaken for a popular and Geneva-born-and-raised Sundaram in WHO.

On the brighter side, and in strict confidence, naming myself as WHO Sundaram did pay dividends. When my wife was looking for a job to last my temporary assignment in Geneva, she got a call from another UN agency. The Personnel Officer interviewed her along with a host of others, and offered her the job at a higher grade than advertised. I was very sure he had mistaken my wife, Lalitha Sundaram, for someone from the other Sundaram family. Yes, life does offer favours occasionally, mistakenly though.

The other occasion when I benefitted by mistaken identify was when I was constructing my house in Delhi. It was numbered 8/13, in a co-operative house building society. The Society president's daughter's house was numbered 13/8 - just the reverse. The President, it would seem, had kept all the housing department officials in good humour, and in return got all the favours for his relatives. So when I went to get Certificate for having completed the job up to the door level, the official saw the house number, got up from his seat, and ordered tea for me. He asked his assistant to issue the certificate on the spot telling him that he had already inspected the site the previous day. And I walked out with the certificate, feeling on top of the world.

But every dog has it day. He realized his mistake, though it was late. So, when I went for the Completion Certificate - the final contact with them. he ripped me off pointing out mistakes after mistakes at every nook and corner of my house. I was in a fix. Fortunately, one of the resourceful house owners came to my rescue. He knew of a house with similar deviations having been given the completion certificate. "You just quote it, and see how they refuse it." So did I, and got the certificate in a week's time. 

Sorry for this divergence, MS ji. Nice hearing from you thanks to Cleveland Sundaram. Just to refresh your memory, I am the same Sundaram who spoke to you a couple of years ago when you were in Chicago, all set to take off for Pune the next day.  Rings a bell?

Best regards.

V.V. Sundaram

http://vvsundaram.blogspot.com

03 January 2012

2011 - In Retrospect

Stocktaking, evaluation, post-mortem, peep, or looking back - call it by any name - is desirable in any venture. Here is an aerial view of the 2011 activities of this group, as well as a few other allied ones, written in a lighter vein, bearing malice to none. I am clubbing deliberately the events of all groups as I find many of us are members in most of the groups.

Many have earned the distinction of being hailed by their abbreviation – MS (or, globe trotter if you insist), GV (G. Viswanath for those who are averse to exerting themselves and want everything on a platter), Siva (don’t ask me to elaborate his name, unless you spare only a cursory glance to the incoming mail), AVMV (sorry, he has recently rechristened himself as VVR), MGK (yes, the one who fires entertaining salvos from Trivandrum launch pad), Gopa (or, Mr Know All if you want to rename him), and not to leave out Hyderabad Cheenu, in whose case the word ‘abbreviation’ doesn’t fit in when compared with his earlier connotation: Cheenu-Cbe. Well the list is endless.

MS continued unabated with daily dose of religious messages. Hyderabad Cheenu released sterling thoughts for the day. Raman covered almost everything – 2012 calendar, old-age quotes, Mullaperiyar dam, key to Indian Railways’ grievance redressal, etc.

GV waged a single-handed battle for more original contributions. Those opposed felt that beg, borrow, or steal, the name of the game should be infotainment. If I say that a particular member’s forwards took the cake, then a host of others will revolt against me, and justifiably. Simply put, everybody gave something, and nobody everything. Siva was in a world of his own with his Amalu, airhostess, and Hyderabad connection - whenever he was not on his spiritual trip, that is.

VVR, aside his unique ability to target generation-next, had an uncanny knack to make inroads into Siva’s observations and give additional dimensions. Cris’s language was worthy of emulation, if at all possible. Gopa had the courage of conviction to cover anything under the sun, but not all of them without attracting comments for amendments. That only showed that he was being read - he could argue, and rightly so.

Vanakkam Subbu served best those who were still entangled in tax liabilities, or were looking for benefits accruing to senior citizens. Sai Baba, an ex banker, covered a variety of relevant subjects. Then there were others who had a knack of taking the opposite view of everything written about. That should be construed as the other side of the coin.

The subject, ‘Are Brahmin girls less keen to marry Brahmin boys’ attracted maximum hoo-ha. With what findings? I am still groping. Anna Hazare’s uproar on Lokpal, Subramaniam Swamy’s crusade to bring to book the corrupt, were close second and third.

Against this backdrop of activities with gay abandon, there remained a solitary septuagenarian writer of a sort who struggled through the year to hammer out a piece of substance.

V.V. Sundaram

01 January 2012

PHOENIX SENIORS' DAY OUT

When I got a call from the IACRF (Indo American Cultural and Religious Foundation) for me and my wife to join them at a Seniors’ Get Together, I was as exuberant as my grandson at the prospect of a day out - only a shade less expressive.

But everything has a price. And the price I pay for my indecision whether to settle down in America or India is that my mind is less receptive to learn the routes to far off places, muster courage to drive at 65 miles along the highway, or use the GPS to find my way. Consequently I write off ventures that involve more than 15 minutes drive. More often thus it is my d-i-l or son who goads me to accept such invitations, offering to be the chauffeur.

We felt glad we made it yesterday. It was delight to meet about 70 persons in their mid-60s to the late-80s under one roof and exchange pleasantries. We met many for the first time. Somehow, for some inexplicable reason it appeared as though after ages we were meeting our long lost relative, friend or a class fellow – or a Ram-Bharat milap.

Nothing works on an empty stomach, more so after a 40-minute drive. So, on arrival we were served appetizer – Upma, palak pakodas, and bhujia, to be washed down with hot masala chai. I still can’t figure out how they call it an appetizer, and not breakfast.

Tracing the history of the cultural centre, we were told it was constructed in 1989 on a sprawling area mobilizing donations from the Indian community. On an average, two functions take place every month. Also the hall is rented out at subsidized rates for various functions. After enjoying a brief respite on completion, the organizers embarked on their magnum opus project – Ekta Mandir – which was completed in 2007 at double the area of the cultural centre. Exquisite finish is the word for Ekta Mandir. At the present day real estate downslide one estimates the cost of these two complexes at USD 5 million. Full compliments to those who were behind the mammoth effort. Their names should be inscribed in gold.

The floor was then given to the only special-invitee youngster for a few warm-up songs to set the stage for a musical extravaganza by the seniors. Yes, their hands shaking while holding the mike, but their spirit remained undaunted, rendering some Pankaj Mullick and K.L Sehgal numbers – a fitting reminder that it is Seniors day out and their favourite numbers will reverberate the hall. At no time did any singer fail to synchronize with Karoke.

Hearing such songs as Tere Mere Sapne Ab Ek Rang Hai; Phoolon Ke Rang Se Dil Ki Kalam Se, and Baar Baar Dekho Hazar Bar Dekho, one wondered if this gathering was to pay tributes to the two recently departed legendaries - Dev Anand and Shammi Kapoor.

A senior lady regaled the audience with jokes at the end of each song. Unfortunately she couldn’t continue for long because she had just recovered from an asthmatic attack and did not want to subject herself to a relapse. See the spirit again.  The audience enjoyed the few that she shared. 

We learn that the city accounts for about 4500 seniors of Indian origin, and if the organizers could get some of them together and offer them an opportunity to pray at Ekta Mandir prior to the programme, an unadulterated entertainment from 10.30 am to 2 pm, and a sumptuous lunch sponsored by a lady, one can only say kudos to the organizers.

V.V. Sundaram

23 December 2011