My Margazhi Hero!

Count down to the 25th year of the 21st century has begun. Undoubtedly it has been a quarter century of technological advancements that are at once life-transforming and life-engulfing in unimaginable ways. 2000 began with the Y2K millennium bug, which seemed gigantic back then. At 2025, we are grappling with the ubiquitous AI and ML issues, which again seem gargantuan. ‘Hoping hopelessly against hope’ that our human memory will continue to come in handy in the age of Google’s Willow, the latest quantum chip that will compute in under five minutes that would take one of today’s fastest supercomputers 10 septillion (that is, 1025) years — a number that vastly exceeds the age of the Universe. 

Well, I don’t claim any familiarity with either Sundar Pichai or Satya Nadella or the growing number of Indian Americans who are in Trump’s A-list. I have nothing spectacular to share about technology either. My December month hero is Velusamy, a Chennai auto driver who beat Google Maps to safely drive 4 of us ladies on the treacherous Chennai roads to reach one of the many Margazhi (auspicious Tamil month for spiritual discourses and music festivals) month music concerts ! Where man-made G-map failed, God-made Memory-map triumphed. Let me share why Velusamy became our saviour.

Unlike the uncertain Bangalore cabs, the young, well dressed cab driver in Chennai promptly accepted our booking and started chatting up with us as we eagerly looked forward to reaching the music sabha to listen to the mellifluous flute of Vidwan Shashank. For the first few minutes we felt envious of the city flyovers, wide roads, absence of road humps and barely any traffic lights to keep our journey in check. But soon, the memory of Bangalore roads (of whatever is left !) started haunting us as we neared a dusty, metro construction, strewn with stones and gavel that made it extremely difficult for the cab to navigate. We were an optimistic and enthusiastic music-loving ‘quartet’ ready to brace the ‘oh-not-so-bad-chennai traffic’ to be in time for Shashank’s flute. 

We didn’t take the driver seriously when he started complaining about the state of roads, unruly traffic and how he was doing us a favour by accepting the ride. He kept highlighting this and also complaining about the irresponsible auto drivers who will never-ever drive on these roads and if they really do, charge a top-up premium of ‘tonty rupees’. We thanked our stars that we were seated in an Uber gaadi and the driver would drop us exactly at the place we wanted. While he made us believe it, the driver suddenly realised that the lanes got so narrow that he couldn’t go any further. 

With bedecked sabhas at all junctions and bejewelled mamis and girls alighting from multiple vehicles, we found ourselves in a road jam that resembled a chakravyuha ! Continuing to brainwash us with his talks, the driver suddenly announced that we had reached our destination and our journey was ‘Done’. He wouldn’t move an inch ahead. We were forced to alight in front of a music sabha that wasn’t our destination. An elderly uncle advised us that hopping on to an auto to cover rest of the 3-4 kms is the best way out of the logjam. While the ‘anti-autodriver-rhetoric’ rang in our ears, we found ourselves squeezing into an auto when Velusamy said “Amma, okkarungo (please sit). I will take you to Bheemasena street”. 

Nether did he follow any maps nor did he turn the meter on. He just seemed to know the route. My tech-savvy niece who sat on her mother’s lap complaining of her crushed knee-caps, religiously tracked the journey on G-map. I joined her too. I was dismayed when what started as 5 minutes turned to 8, 3, 10, 12, sometimes 1 min to finally 20 mins. All the while I kept checking on Velu “Ungalku veli theriyuma ?” (do you know the way). Everytime he swerved left or right or tried avoiding a hump or some cattle or vehicle or pedestrian, my sceptical questioning increased until he said “Amma, naa ingada porandavan (born here). Grown and driven in Madras all my 50 years. I know every bend and every turn and every crater on the road. Trust me”. I know where Parthasarathy Sabha is. Know he did. It was exactly on the other side of where we had first alighted from the cab 20 mins ago. Felt greatly relieved to see the temple, Sabha and the music rasikas waiting for the recital to start. Not to mention the aromas from the kutchery-kitchen floating across the pandal that Madras Marghazi is so famous for ! 

Thanking Velu for safely bringing us to the concert, we paid him a grand 150 and also requested if he would come to the same spot an hour later to pick us up. He agreed and shared his mobile number too. Needless to say, no tech booking, no maps, Velu was promptly there to give us a ride again back to the hotel. I was guilty of judging Velu over G-map but happy with his tremendous patience (braving the dense traffic and a constantly nagging-me😊) and touched by his promise to come back again despite the narrow roads. Clearly google maps felt ‘LOST’ navigating the chaotic Chennai roads while Velu’s memory was ‘BANG ON’ ! This is just 2 weeks ago as we welcome the 25th year of the 21st century. This is what makes ‘YEH MERA BHARAT’ unique and experiential. 

Velu is my Margazhi hero. As for the regulatory hero story of December, 2024 there is no 2nd thought about who it is – SEBI LODR 3rd Amendment is the winner all the way. It is being ‘celebrated’ through many articles and analysis as well as across the country workshops and webinars. Do catch the other updates from SEBI (on PIT, ESG debt securities, BRSR Core Industry Standards), DGFT, GST, IT and IBBI. For any previous issues of Samhita and the readers’ feedback, please visit http://www.sharadasc.com/resource-center/.

Reflect on the past with a clear conscience | Embrace the future with blooming aspirations |
|| Wishing you a Happy New Year 2025 with nature’s finest blossoms ||