One thing defines people almost infallibly — their routine. AK Kannan’s gets him to hit the road on his loyal four-stroke, by 6.30 a.m., and do a head-spinning tour of temples. His worship begins where others’ ends. Collecting discarded items of worship — shrinking flowers, open-mouthed coconuts, squeezed-out milk packets, half-burnt incense sticks et al. Kept segregated, each discard is reached to its earmarked place by Kannan and his trusty steed.
In 52-year-old Kannan’s eyes, getting the remains of hallowed personal items of worship to serve the larger good is an extension of the worship. For quite sometime, his solid-waste management (SWM) philosophy veered entirely to this commitment, excluding other essentials. He can wrap his head around any SWM concept now, but is modest enough to admit that as late as 2014, he was dreadfully ignorant of certain basics.
“Back then, I was not aware that composting yards existed.” He had however instinctively pottered his way to doing the right thing, making sure organic waste went where it is most wanted and useful.
AK Kannan
“In 2012, when I lived in Madurai, I began collecting used worship items from temples, depositing the flower waste in outlying areas abounding in trees. The initiative first began at home — I winced at the thought of putting used worship items in the regular garbage bin with other discards. They deserved a more ceremonious journey to their final destination. They did not belong in the garbage truck.”
In 2014, a transfer by his employer, Prasar Bharathi, meant the temple tour had a new route — in a new city. He began to work out of the Doordarshan Kendra, Chennai, where he is assistant engineer.
Calling Kannan’s daily commute meandering is putting it mildly. His to-do list for the day includes visits to around 25 temples and a composting yard and a material recovery centre (MRC).
“There are 25 to 30 temples I gather discarded items from. On an average, I manage to touch 25 temples. I begin with temples in Choolaimedu, where I live, followed by those in Nungambakkam. The next stop is T. Nagar, followed by Saidapet, particularly Karneeshwarar temple. Mylapore is the next pit stop. From there, I head to my office in Chepauk.”
Unloading these items at a composting yard and a material recovery centre of the Greater Chennai Corporation is part of the tedious routine. Only that Kannan hardly considers it tedium.
“For the first three years, I was taking these discards to composting pits in MRC Nagar, where vermicomposting was being done.”
He now usually chooses between the composting yard on Kutchery Road in Mylapore and the one on Arunachalam Street in Chintadripet (where he visits Arpineshwarar temple), which is just two throttles away from his office in Chepauk. While he would head to any temple where used worship items need to cleared, he does have his favourites.
“Karneeswarar temple in Saidapet is the main source,” reveals Kannan, explaining that yields from there are invariably whopping great.
Somewhat like Newton’s Cradle with its spheres, the initiative operates with self-sustaining momentum, with each player in the chain, from the first to the last, contributing to it in varying degrees. The givers (temple authorities) and takers (GCC compost yard managers) respond promptly so that Kannan does not have to tarry a zeptosecond longer than he should. That is usually the case and Kannan seems to possess the patience of spirit to take the occasional delays in the stride of his “bloated” two-wheeler.
When this writer meets Kannan who is fresh from a routine temple tour, he unclasps his side box to reveal large, mangled plastic bags carelessly shoved into it. They are wornout from obvious overuse. Kannan would like to call it “reuse”.
“These plastic bags would be reused again and again till they are down to their last shreds,” he smiles.
Filled with waste, the bags would be carried like panniers. When the day’s collection cycle is complete, a gunny bag in the front and the rear would be added on.
Coconut shells travel along with the withered flowers, but have a nearby, different destination.
“In all Corporation yards with composting facilities, there are material recovery centres where they have coconut shells as a collection category. The coconut shells that are gathered in are transported through lorries for the making of ropes. Often, there would be 50 to 100 coconut shells. On pradosam days, there would be 200 to 300 of them, and I would hire an autorickshaw to reach them to a Corporation facility,” he explains. “I also keep the agal vilakkus separate, as they form a separate category at the material recovery centres. They are taken to the recycling unit that makes paver blocks for road-laying
When asked about the average expense resulting from his volunteering, he pegs it at ₹2,000 to ₹3,000 a month.
Kannan points out that after he moved to Chennai, an extremely active solid waste management group helped him gather sufficient knowledge about the various facets of solid waste management. As a mentor, K Viswanathan of Mylapore Residents’ Welfare Association has greatly influenced Kannan.
Has Kannan inspired people to take up volunteering of the rare kind that he represents?
“There are people who have joined with me — they would do it for a while, but would not be able to sustain it. After a few days, they would throw up their hands and say it is too much for them,” says Kannan with a gentle laugh, probably at memories of such conversations from the past.
Whenever these volunteers express anguish of this sort, Kannan is empathetic.
“Earlier, I would pick up and drop such trash in the evenings as well. I could to see that the overwork was impacting my mind adversely,” says the 52-year-old.
His family continually warn him that his enthusiasm tends to get out of hand, and that he has to watch out for stretching himself beyond physical limits with the volunteering work. He says: “At home, I am appreciated for my volunteering initiative, but also chided for being unmindful of my health while doing it.”
