Once upon a time, I broke-journey at Thirupappapuliyur or, as it may have been, Thirupappapapuliyur, a station in-between what was then, Pondicherry (now Puducherry) and what was then Madras (now Chennai). I miscounted the "papp"s when writing the official form and n early got jugged by the railway police as a result. |
Since then, I have been careful about names. Whether sending off a courier to AJCB Avenue (Kolkata) or GN Marg (Mumbai), or planning a trip between, say, CSTIA (Mumbai) and ending at NSCBIA (Kolkata), I ensure the official address is correct. |
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It is a different matter that everyone refers to these locations as "Lower Circular Rd", "Turner Rd", "Santa Cruz/ Sahar (Bombay)" and Dum-Dum (Calcutta). Across the whole of India, roads have old colonial names and cities have old colonial names. |
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Renaming has occurred with a vengeance but the old names still remain in use in ways that seem odd so many decades after the shameful yolk of the British lifted from our Dadaji and Nanaji's shoulders. Nobody remembers who Turner was, whereas Acharya Jagadish, Netaji Subhas and Chhatrapati Shivaji all receive due respect. |
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It's because of a warped nomenclature that arises from a warped sense of formalism. Indians believe in long, resplendent, official names. These are of necessity, coupled to short nicknames. Assorted Montus, Rajas, Babloos, Pinkies, Lovelies and Happies all live with polysyllabic inscriptions on their respective birth certificates. |
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When renaming roads, it is considered disrespectful if the full name and upadhis of the party honoured, are not incorporated. Since these are all unpronounceably long, the old names or some soup of initials is used as the "nickname" instead. The basic intention "" that somebody is to be honoured by their name remaining in common parlance "" is obscured by senseless formalism. |
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The Brits shortened names to ensure nicknames were unnecessary. "Wellington Square" trips easier off the tongue than "Raja Subodh Chandra Mullick Square". However, "Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington & Viscount Talavera Square" to give the gent his full name and titles, is somewhat more cumbersome. It is possible that for example, "Bapu Sarani" would have replaced "Harrison Road" in common usage if the name of MMKG Road had been thus shortened. |
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Our formalism frequently makes us do more damagingly stupid things. The whole concept of the Licence Raj was based on formalism. It was formally decreed that bicycle handlebars should be a certain shape, ice-cream should always be made by small- scale units, etc. This ensured less ice-cream and fewer bicycles. |
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Formalism is one of the things that makes the MNS (initials again!) agitation seem absurd. The MNS is beating up Mumbai cabbies and small businessmen in Nashik as the most visible face of North Indians in Maharashtra. They also attacked Amitabh Bachchan's house. |
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There is nothing stopping an MNS supporter from becoming either a small businessman or indeed a movie star, if he can. If, instead, the agitation leads to shops and film studios being closed down, everybody including the aspiring Bachchans of the MNS suffer. |
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There is a quota for cab-licences and so, there is a formal entry-barrier. However, that quota is handled by an elected local government. If the MNS believes MNS supporters are being foiled in their burning desire to drive cabs, it should lobby for the quota to be lifted. By all means, let anyone with a driving licence and a hypothecated cab trawl for passengers. |
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Instead the MNS bows to the senseless formalism of the cab-quota and beats up the chaps who happened to stand first in the queue. That ensures all cabs, including those driven by Marathi-speakers, are off the road. |
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Whether the ends justify the means or not is a matter of endless and renewed debate. However, when the means pretty much guarantee that the ends will not be achieved, it is utterly senseless. But there you are, we are like that only. And not just in Maharashtra. |
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