M. Kumar smoothens out the wrinkles on his uniform and slips on a pair of white gloves. It’s almost as if he’s getting ready for a stage performance. Except, his stage is a little unconventional — he strides purposefully towards the centre of the intersection of four roads at a signal in Sholinganallur on OMR.
It’s a normal day in the life of the wave of humanity that stares blankly ahead like statues, waiting for the signal to let up. But Kumar shakes them out of their reverie. He waves at the vehicles to his left and lets them pass; what could’ve well been a stiff policeman move, is swish and dance-like. Imagine Prabhudeva in his place; or better, Rajinikanth.
Kumar has style: he bends his knees just so slightly as he does a quick right turn, and swishes an invisible wand like a music conductor to invite vehicles on the other side to pass. A light smile plays on his lips all along, for someone or the other is smiling or waving at him as they ride past.
Kumar is not your average traffic policeman who slogs it out in the heat and dust to keep the roads in order. He does the same with an uber-cool attitude and a body language that screams, no sings out loud: ‘I love what I’m doing’.
His distinctive style of regulating traffic on OMR got him noticed by Amar Ramesh, Maverick Prem, Maveeran Somasundaram, Vivi Raaj and Vinoth RJ of BIG short FILMS, a group that makes ‘short social films out of real, inspiring stories’. They created a three-minute-film on Kumar, titled Supercop: Ruling the roads with love and order , which is going viral.
A native of Kallakurichi, the 42-year-old is happy that his work is earning him recognition. A traffic constable spends eight hours a day on the road; this is split into two four-hour shifts. He/she can hardly take a break during these four hours. “Your arms and shoulders hurt badly at the end of the shift,” says K. Bose Raman, Inspector of Police, J10 Traffic. “Which is why I tell Kumar not to strain himself too much.”
But the man just wouldn’t listen. Why does he do this? “I want to go home happy every day,” says Kumar. “I don’t do this to make myself look good. I want to get noticed, yes. But, this is to get the attention of the people. Everyone is tired by evening and they end up spending a few minutes at the signal. I give them something to smile at; something that makes them forget about the responsibilities that await them once they restart their vehicles.”
Saying so, Kumar merges into the evening madness of Sholinganallur. K. Balasubramani, yet another sincere head constable whom Bose Raman places on a par with Kumar, nods at him stiffly.
‘Vreeee...’ Kumar blows his whistle and does his dance. The signal turns green and it’s time for us to move. We do so grudgingly.
