Navigating the Small Intestine

A Medical Heading for a Metro Story

The Man from Madras Musings (MMM) is fully aware that this is not a magazine devoted to matters of medical interest, but he could not think of a more appropriate heading.

The road surrounding MMM’s in-law’s residence (the parents of his good lady aka She Who Must Be Obeyed) is a battleground these days with Metrorail digging practically all around. Access to the street is via a chicken neck that has manholes conveniently left open by CMWSSB, and exit is by a zigzag passage created by metal sheets.

On paper, this zigzag route is said to be wide enough for cars to pass through. But MMM is not so brave and prefers to drive in and out via the chicken neck.

An Elder’s Command

MMM, however, is of the kind that listens to elders. So when his mother-in-law (she being She Who Must Be Obeyed’s mother) fixed him with an eye like Mars and said he could navigate the car through the large intestine-like passage, he obeyed.

This was also out of consideration for the fact that the lady had been driving around Madras long before MMM set hand to steering wheel. All went well till the first bend, and then, MMM must have zigged when the route demanded a zag—or possibly the sheets decided to caress the vehicle.

There was a groaning noise and a considerable part of the car was scooped out by a jutting nail, a jagged edge, or whatever else it was.

The Car that Screamed

Now, MMM uses a high-end car which screams in agony any time anyone comes even near it. It also shudders to a halt if any two-wheeler crosses it. But what was amazing was the way the vehicle remained silent till it was scratched—and then it let out a series of agonised yelps.

That brought around the entire Metro team—this was like that ship blocking the Suez Canal. A couple of drunks (never a lack of them in this, our city) also rolled up. Everyone shouted contradictory instructions to MMM, in Hindi, English and Tamil, with the drunks speaking in Madras Bhashai. And the car screamed its guts out.

Jugaad to the Rescue

Eventually, as always, it was good old jugaad. Someone moved the metal sheets wider, and the car could extricate itself.

Later, an apologetic Metro person strolled up and said the problem was owing to the passage having narrowed, though why or how he did not know. The car, by the way, felt a lot lighter—much of it was scraped on to the sheets. MMM’s wallet also was lighter after the repairs.