A place called home

Chennai, my hometown has been the brunt of a lot of jokes amongst people I know. All the anti-Chennaiites gather around and try to put down my place in favor of theirs. But all this is a sort of friendly banter. On a more serious note, I would like to remember the place as it is known by the tourists. But more importantly, I want to pen down how I remember Chennai. Ironically, the name Chennai has Telugu origins. I hope all the Andhraiites here are satisfied and will have a smile on their faces the next time I meet them. First and foremost, Chennai is home to the heavenly filter kaapi, a beverage mastered to perfection in this part of the country. What’s more, the method in which it is served in any restaurant impresses me a lot. Generally, the coffee is served in a glass with a container at the bottom. The coffee is made with just the right amount of milk, coffee and sugar; it is then cooled by pouring the coffee from the glass to the container and vice versa constantly till it froths up but does not get too cold. Nice way to start a day, I feel. Now, one of the morning sounds one hears is of suprabhatam from one of the households. Morning is a time to think ahead for the day, to think good things and basically be cheerful. Hearing devotional songs starts my day on the right foot. One thing you cannot miss in the mornings in Chennai is the early morning walkers. Walkers of all age, shape and size come out in the morning to walk along the various beaches present in the city. It’s an unsaid code amongst the early morning walkers, that they meet every morning at the same place and time without knowing the identity of the next person and part ways after the ritual just to meet again the next day. Office time starts and the buses are jam packed with office goers, students off to school with their loads of books, backpacks and tiffin carriers. The long wait at the busy signal, the haggling auto drivers, the packed beyond capacity school van, the cyclist breezing away at the signal where everybody has come to a standstill, the clueless traffic policeman and the long wait for the signal to turn green- all build up the character of the city called Chennai. Yes, we prefer to speak Tamil. But that’s our native tongue. We feel comfortable in it. We know what we are speaking may not make sense but is grammatically correct. After all, Tamil has the oldest literature among other Dravidian languages. Apart from that, Chennai has its annual Music season, which draws artists from all parts of the world. Chennai is the home to Velankanni church which draws devotees of Mother Mary from all over. The annual Kapaleeshwar temple festival blocks traffic and evokes devotion in equal measure. Even though the city offers a variety of entertainment for the youth of today, the city has not lost its flavor. Filter kaapi and vodka can co-exist, this message is reiterated almost everyday in the city which is growing at alarming rates. There is much more to say about the place but I might not be able to do justice. This post is solely for reliving my memories and not to hurt anybody’s sentimentality. Till I reach Singaara Chennai, I will have to make do with memories.