SIMPLY MADRAS
I am in an air conditioned railway car on my way to Madras, now renamed Chennai. Chennai....sounds so alien, so drab, so uninteresting. I dont know why the name had to be changed. Madras sounded so much better, so much full of character. Madras...the capital of Tamil Nadu, the city of long distances, scorching summers, strong coffee and the stinking Cooum, the city that lives in my heart. The name Madras brings back vivid memories in my life and as I lay on my berth, my thoughts oscillated between my childhood days and teenage years associated with Madras.
A trip to Madras was something my I looked forward to. I enjoyed being with my aunts and their families. Holidays with my aunts and cousins were times of merriment. We cousins used to play games all day and in the evenings we were taken to the marina beach where we wet our feet, played with the sand and gazed at the lighthouse. Madras was where I had first seen the ocean and was mesmerised by it. Then there were the day trips to nearby Mahabalipuram, a town with many temples. One memorable trip was the Madras Darshan, a government trip that took a busload of passengers all around Madras showing off its beaches, temples, the Government Museum. It was fun, though whether we learnt anything is doubtful. There was one time when my brother and I were both affected by an in-grown toe nail and we both had to be operated. There we were at my aunts place, both our toes bandaged and in pain. It was a hilarious sight. Madras has only given me smiles.
My mind fast forwarded to that day in Coimbatore when i decided to join an obscure college in Madras to do my business management. My aunts were my guardians. I can see in my minds eye the red diesel engine throbbing with power chugging slowly into Madras Central dragging the blue coaches behind it. This was no ordinary journey for it was my first journey alone and it marked the beginning of my college life.
I can see myself standing with my bag, shading my eyes with one hand against the bright sun and staring at the red exterior, the tall clock tower and the caps on each building. I can see the crowd hurrying all over the place, and me being mobbed by a multitude of drivers of taxis and rickshaws. I can still feel the stale and hot air, the sun scorching down, trying to burn everything. Even now as I recall that journey I am filled with excitement. I remember I had smiled and murmured 'Welcome to Madras'.
I spent two years in college...two hazy years...filled with images of nameless roads and streets, innumerable roadside eating joints, countless days and nights of drunken stupor, numerous hours of movies and music, endless discussions on myriad topics and death wish bike rides. The only constant in an ever changing landscape of memories were the faces of people, family, friends and strangers, those rare gems of people who decided to take the risk of holding my hand and considered me worthy. We became a group and in the two years of staying together we became a close knit gang. Every member shared their life...the past by telling, the present by sharing and the future by dreaming.
A shift in the scene...I am in Madras sitting in a car with my fiance at the wheel. Driving around the city, just the two of us, showing her my favourite places and reliving my earlier days. It just made me feel ecstatic and fortunate. I looked back at my relationship with Madras. It had been in limbo for over five years. I hardly visited anymore. It had rekindled ever since I met my fiance. Madras is her home. I just sat in the car and thought what Madras had given me. It had provided me with the happiest days of my life, a practical knowledge on the real world and a course on surviving on my own. Now it also gave me the love of my life. What more could I ask. Madras has forged a very special place in my heart. It is a city that has changed in many a way, but its a city that has always made me happy and god willing will continue to do so.
I am in an air conditioned railway car on my way to Madras, now renamed Chennai. Chennai....sounds so alien, so drab, so uninteresting. I dont know why the name had to be changed. Madras sounded so much better, so much full of character. Madras...the capital of Tamil Nadu, the city of long distances, scorching summers, strong coffee and the stinking Cooum, the city that lives in my heart. The name Madras brings back vivid memories in my life and as I lay on my berth, my thoughts oscillated between my childhood days and teenage years associated with Madras.
A trip to Madras was something my I looked forward to. I enjoyed being with my aunts and their families. Holidays with my aunts and cousins were times of merriment. We cousins used to play games all day and in the evenings we were taken to the marina beach where we wet our feet, played with the sand and gazed at the lighthouse. Madras was where I had first seen the ocean and was mesmerised by it. Then there were the day trips to nearby Mahabalipuram, a town with many temples. One memorable trip was the Madras Darshan, a government trip that took a busload of passengers all around Madras showing off its beaches, temples, the Government Museum. It was fun, though whether we learnt anything is doubtful. There was one time when my brother and I were both affected by an in-grown toe nail and we both had to be operated. There we were at my aunts place, both our toes bandaged and in pain. It was a hilarious sight. Madras has only given me smiles.
My mind fast forwarded to that day in Coimbatore when i decided to join an obscure college in Madras to do my business management. My aunts were my guardians. I can see in my minds eye the red diesel engine throbbing with power chugging slowly into Madras Central dragging the blue coaches behind it. This was no ordinary journey for it was my first journey alone and it marked the beginning of my college life.
I can see myself standing with my bag, shading my eyes with one hand against the bright sun and staring at the red exterior, the tall clock tower and the caps on each building. I can see the crowd hurrying all over the place, and me being mobbed by a multitude of drivers of taxis and rickshaws. I can still feel the stale and hot air, the sun scorching down, trying to burn everything. Even now as I recall that journey I am filled with excitement. I remember I had smiled and murmured 'Welcome to Madras'.
I spent two years in college...two hazy years...filled with images of nameless roads and streets, innumerable roadside eating joints, countless days and nights of drunken stupor, numerous hours of movies and music, endless discussions on myriad topics and death wish bike rides. The only constant in an ever changing landscape of memories were the faces of people, family, friends and strangers, those rare gems of people who decided to take the risk of holding my hand and considered me worthy. We became a group and in the two years of staying together we became a close knit gang. Every member shared their life...the past by telling, the present by sharing and the future by dreaming.
A shift in the scene...I am in Madras sitting in a car with my fiance at the wheel. Driving around the city, just the two of us, showing her my favourite places and reliving my earlier days. It just made me feel ecstatic and fortunate. I looked back at my relationship with Madras. It had been in limbo for over five years. I hardly visited anymore. It had rekindled ever since I met my fiance. Madras is her home. I just sat in the car and thought what Madras had given me. It had provided me with the happiest days of my life, a practical knowledge on the real world and a course on surviving on my own. Now it also gave me the love of my life. What more could I ask. Madras has forged a very special place in my heart. It is a city that has changed in many a way, but its a city that has always made me happy and god willing will continue to do so.
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