CHENNAI, December 6: As a fresh low pressure trough formed in Bay of Bengal, schools remained closed in ten districts in Tamil Nadu. Nevertheless, this did not deter students of Asian College of Journalism’s (ACJ) New Media stream, also under great pressure, to swim their way through muck, mulch and the likes to reach Alliance Française for a reporting examination.
The 60-odd students braved the deluge of rain to prove their mettle as reporters in a testing environment. While the schools remained closed on Monday, following a long wet weekend, the post graduate students were found traversing the roads of Chennai on a Monday, which for the rest of the city was spent like a Sunday – cosily in bed.
The assignment, which was to report on an Art Exhibition on Bonded Labour, being held at the Alliance Française, from 2nd to 11th December, was considered by many to be a piece of cake. But the proverbial cake vanished the instance the students heard about the recorded 10 cm of rains in the crying city. Overnight, Chennai had turned into a quasi-Cherrapunji.
While the river flowing outside the college campus, joined by the tributary from inside the college, swelled to its utmost, the enterprising students decided to call upon the Muthu Cabs’ Gods for help. Apparently the norm was to waddle your way through the flowing water. But the students got creative. The snakes, crabs and other such creatures, which might be considered delicacies in some remote corners of the world, were not about to make the student’s feet a part of their diet.
The students piled into the overcrowded cabs, praying fervently for the vehicle’s long-life. The jostling for the seats, in one of the cabs, was taken to be a sign of good spirit by the Tamil-speaking driver. The drive to the centre was akin to a sail in a boat in the waters of a polluted lake. The cab’s windows splattered with water and provided absolutely nil view of the road in front. Either the driver could see underwater or he had memorised every twist and turn of the roads. It was a toss between the two.
When the destination finally arrived and the party tumbled out of the cabs, there was noted a collected sigh of relief. The dishevelled travellers then crossed the undying water bodies and stepped onto the dry land of the Alliance Française of Madras. It was a happy gathering.
The first thing one noted when walking inside the exhibition room was the abundance of familiar faces. There were definitely more students than the 30-odd pictures merited. Crowded inside the 15’x12’x12’ room, the visitors to the exhibition were overawed not just by the stoic pictures but by the lack of ventilation. One student felt nauseated by the whole affair and had to be seated on a chair outside the exhibition to calm her nerves down. The board which said only two past this point had been favourably taken down from its usual post, above the door, and lay on the table beside the female prone to fainting fits.
There was a taped Tamil dialogue, playing in the background, lending an eerie sensation to the proceedings. The dialogue was between an owner and his slave which was neither understood by the non-Tamil speaking crowd nor the lone North-Eastern media public relations’ contact from the company. The closed door, at one end of the room signified just that – closure.
Though the students were made aware of the stark pain of the bonded labourers it was the disappointed faces of the latecomers who, when they reached their destination, where notified that the place had to close due to excessive rainfall, that was to haunt everyone.
The exodus back to the college campus was arguably one of the most ironic journeys. The students both wanted the ride back to the safe comforts of their room and at the same time detested the close contact of wet human bodies in a closeted space.
Nevertheless, as the death toll reached 170 on Monday evening, those who managed to make it back safely had reason to be thankful.
