Where is the MG of MG Road?

Some time back I heard an indignant observation from a citizen that it was not right to call MG Road MG Road. He felt scandalised that the name of the father of the nation should be so abbreviated. While appreciating his sentiments, I thought it would be rather impractical to pronounce the full names of all the leaders of the nation in whose memory roads, hospitals, lanes, by-lanes and beauty parlours have been named.

A recent encounter, however, has changed my opinion. I was walking along the shaded path from the Governor's little home towards the gate of Cubbon Park, when a group of tourists accosted the person walking before me, wanting to know how they could get to MG Road.

"It's easy," he said. "Just keep walking in this road, and at the end of it you will see a statue of MG. And all that you see in front of MG is MG Road."

As he was himself going in that direction, he offered to accompany them. Having paused to enjoy this happy little interlude, I followed the group. As we approached the end of the road, our guide (if we may so call him), with an expansive motion of his hand declared,
"Here is the statue of MG."

The tourists exchanged doubtful glances. I had a look at the statue.
What I saw was the antithesis of all that MG was. In the place of angles and bones we associate with the Mahatma, I saw an image made entirely of curves. A certain fullness of form, magnitude of size and imperiousness of manner declared to the world that this was no Mahatma. There was hardly the hint of a smile on the ample and chubby face. Dressed in elaborately embroidered finery it had enough clothing to keep a middling family warm through two winters. In the place of Gandhi's puckish smile was a particular haughtiness that is so unique to the beautiful sex. Its left hand held a finely worked globe and in the right hand was a sceptre. The entire aspect of the statue reminded one of Queen Victoria of happy memory, which indeed it was, for engraved at the bottom of the statue were the words, Queen Victoria, Queen of England, Wales and Ireland, Empress of India etc., etc

"Are you sure this is the statue of MG?" one of the tourists wanted to know.

"Of course I am. This is MG Road, and this is MG."

His line of thinking was beginning to become clear. Of MG road, he was sure. And if this was MG Road, this statue which looked upon the road with such grandeur must surely be MG.

By this time, the group was beginning to swell with curious onlookers ready with comments, suggestions and opinions, if any.

"This is MG road.. " someone suggested hesitantly, "but the MG statue is over there."

"That is Mahatma Gandhi's statue," exclaimed our guide "And this is the statue of MG.”

There was a rerun of exchanged glances not only among the tourists but also among the members of the small crowd.

The guide was silent for a moment, but suddenly understanding dawned. He realised that MG was Mahatma Gandhi and not this fat lady as he had imagined all these years. It was getting a little embarrassing for him and for the audience.

And they that were gathered disbursed, one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last, until the guide was left by himself, with just the Queen looking upon him.