This being Chennai, not unused to municipal defacements by devotees of whichever cult happens to be in power, there seemed little purpose in pointing out that walking space in the city's best known promenade had been temporarily encroached by this extended display of political vanity. Or, more lastingly, the road cratered with mini-potholes for what is effectively a 20-minute photo-op.
As it turned out, it wasn't even that. The next day, Jayalalithaa eschewed the short walk from her car and an even shorter climb to the statue, instead handing over the garland to a genuflecting functionary to complete the honours.
Elsewhere in India there may be gestures, however token, to shed the trappings of VIP culture. Or at least express faux-embarrassment if caught in the act, trying to enter through exit gates, or jump queues, or hold up traffic in extended motorcades. But not here. The currents of change have barely disturbed the hothouse of Dravidian political culture, which remains committed to its popular cinema-meets-Pyongyang aesthetic of heroine (and hero) worship.
On that Thursday, it was still unclear whether Jayalalithaa would, in fact, be sworn in over the weekend. The posters, translated by a helpful acquaintance, offered a hint: "By taking the light of justice in her hand she has embarked on a journey of countless experiments with truth. Boldly she has faced that and come out as ultimate leader. Long live Permanent General Secretary. Long live People's Chief Minister."
At the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK) headquarters in Royappettah, an elegant white structure with the bligatory gold-hued MGR bust in the courtyard, there was a subdued hum of preparation. In just the 20 minutes we spent there, three Cabinet ministers drove in and out in large SUVs, holding brief conversations with the office incharge. None of them wanted to speak; a familiar experience for anyone who has covered the party of Two Leaves.
We tried to get confirmation of the swearing-in plans from the AIADMK's spokesperson, the ebullient C R Saraswathi, in her offices in the somewhat rundown Social Welfare Board (of which she is the chairperson). It's almost certain Amma is taking oath on Saturday, she told us, but final word has to 'come from the Garden'. So, Poes Garden is now simply the Garden, only furthering its semi-mythical status in Tamil Nadu's power lexicography.
Saraswathi, who it turns out also comes from a film and TV background, cheerfully rebutted our very specific concerns about the Karnataka High Court order, which - as closer readings have revealed - is no longer limited to mathematical errors but huge lapses of reasoning.
"I don't think there is anything. If there was, the honourable judge would have answered to this," she said, before changing tack to suggest that "if there was anything wrong, our Amma knows law very well. By this time, she must have read the whole judgment."
"Now, we are in a very happy mood and so we don't want to discuss more," she concluded. "But record this in your TV cameras: in elections next year, Amma will be the chief minister because of the schemes she has given to the people. Everybody wants Amma to sit in the chair forever."
The writer anchors the ground reportage show Truth vs Hype on NDTV 24X7