IT was lying on the table at a friend's office in Chennai when I dropped in last week. I flipped through it idly while I waited for him to finish a call. The layout was clean and smart, the content lively and wide-ranging. The masthead said Madras Musings; there was no price mentioned. Intrigued, I called up the editor and fixed up a meeting. S C Muthiah lived in a quiet lane in T Nagar. A veteran journalist he was, I discovered, well known in Chennai, through his writing (he had authored a book on the city's history) as well as his involvement in its various campaigns.``A decade ago there were no local papers and the national papers did not cover the city, I wanted to start something that would concentrate on Madras,'' he says. So he started Madras Musings (MM), a fortnightly mix of political and civic issues, social trends, culture, nostalgia and sports. The paper was distributed free and money was expected to be raised through advertising. The paper's popularity invited competition. Spurred bythe example, the national dailies increased their local coverage and three neighbourhood tabloids came into being. These developments proved detrimental to MM for while the former managed to recapture the big advertisers, the latter nibbled away at the corner store advertising with phenomenal success. As losses mounted MM invited subscriptions at Rs 60 a year. The strategy did not work. Circulation dropped to 3000 copies and as it crossed its seventh year, Muthiah and his publishers decided to shut shop. An announcement was made to that effect in what was to be the last issue, some months ago. The day after the issue appeared, however, Muthiah received a telephone call ``from an industrialist, I had never met.'' The caller, after saying how much he enjoyed the paper, offered to help. The offer was made concrete. In 48 hours, he had a list of 12 industrialists who were willing to put money into the paper.The paper was saved. Circulation climbed to 12,000 copies and according to Muthiah, is rising by 50every month. The tabloid is still free but copies are only mailed on request. Recipients include readers of all ages and from every walk of life. Their passionate involvement in both the paper and the city can be perceived from the vibrancy of its letters page which includes opinions on anything and everything: relocating ticket booths, the effects of cyclones on hoardings, the absence of Tamilian Test cricketers, pay toilets and the use of acronyms by the paper (the last came from a retired professor who admitted that ``having been a Maths/Statistics teacher for nearly 3-1/2 decades, I can't help trying to shorten things whenever an opportunity occurs.'').The core of industrialists supporting the venture has risen to 23 and the paper now actually has surplus funds with which it intends setting up a trust for heritage conservation. What perhaps is most impressive is the fact that there has been no attempt to subvert editorial independence. ``That was a precondition to taking help,'' says Muthiah firmly.Nor is there any attempt at grabbing publicity. Logos of all the sponsors are given equal display in a box on the back page with a line that says simply, ``Madras Musings is supported as a public service by the following organisations.'' Financial support has not changed the tone. The paper is still run by Muthiah with the help of freelance contributors.The photographs are black and white and the editorial matter though highly readable seems to amply justify the claim made in the strapline: ``We Care For Madras That Is Chennai''.Closer home I can't think of anything that quite compares. Bombay magazine that mixed civic affairs with socialite doings closed down years ago and the market for a city magazine, according to publishers is not an encouraging one. Neighbourhood tabloids come and go but most appear to be directories of advertisement. I certainly can't think of any endeavour that would attract support on such a selfless basis. How the MM experiment unfolds remains to be seen. But for the moment Ithink we can learn some lessons from our cousins down south.
