Madras musings...

I am not a Tamilian who takes kindly to being labelled a Madrasi or being called a Chennaiite, thanks to assumptions that Tams = Chennaiites/Madrasis. In this post, I'm going to refer to Chennai as Madras because I hate the whole name change business. ( Yes, especially after Bangalore became Bengalooru, it is personal :|) This trip to Madras was after a long time with family (whole family, Appa, Amma, and sisters included, and everyone was happy and in good spirits throughout, inspite of the heat. No prizes for guessing why, btw) Every time, a Madras trip is a quick 6 hours by train with those numerous names like Lalbagh, and Brindavan and all that, and a quick smile and a nod at a wedding, answer some embarassing questions, get back to Bangalore by the night train, so we can resume life in peace all over again. This time, I did not think it was going to be any different. But, it was. It brought back what Madras means for a lot of Madras aficionados, a lot of childhood memories, a lot of cousin/family bonding, a lot of shopping (Okay, this has been a constant over the years on short, and even on shorter trips!), grudging respect for an average Madras citizen, what with the pressures of just watching the crowd, leave alone being a part of it on the busy T.Nagar road with the innumerable sari and jewellery shops which are ALWAYS full.

This time in Madras was longer, more relaxed, there was sari shopping like always, there was a wedding like always, but this time around, it was more fun. Guess why. I am getting married next month, and thankfully, so there were no embarassing or rather, irritating and frustrating questions about how a 'young' and 'pretty' and 'well-endowed' girl like me could not get hitched. (Note the use of modal, 'could.') Again, let me get back to being positive :) Good things in Madras included-

- the beginning itself. We had loads of bags, and we all had mehendi on our hands. We did not lift a single bag, and the train was full of Tamilians :) Good looking boys, pretty girls, maamis with the latest silk cottons from Pothy's, Patis with those madisaar (9 yards) saris, those incorrigible jute bags from Nalli's, the glint of the diamond ring on the nose and the ears, those gold bangles, the long noses of some maamis, the neatly combed hair, the sari or the typically Madras salwars, the mamas, the thair saadam in their hands, the farewells in Tamil, the language :). I felt good being a South Indian. Really.

- the huuuuuuuge Central Station, the nice looking boys who came to pick up their assorted relatives - young cousins, girl friends, mothers, mamis, patis, the coolies with their abominable prices, seeing my uncle come to pick us up, carrying ALL the luggage ourselves, meeting my aunt :)

- trip to Grand Sweets, and staring at how the efficient woman there, sari tucked away neatly took our orders for murukku and laddoo for my wedding, and calmly told my parents to wait for 4 hours at the spacious courtyard at Grand Sweets, for confirmation of the order. Oh, did I forget to mention that the wait time to take the order was over an hour?

- the wedding. This time, I observed all the rituals and smiled at some, and frowned at a lot more! Asked questions, got stared at. Oh, did I forget to mention that I was in a sari for the whole of the wedding, and found it tough to balance fashion with comfort? But, yes, people said I looked good :P so, there, I rest my case. Meeting Vishal and actually talking to him!, making fun of Mr. Karunanidhi aka the Contract Guy at the wedding. Food on the last day of the wedding - Vette Kuzhambu, Sephankazhangu curry, all soul food :)

- Then, the shopping. Buying the traditional sari, I sat while my family shopped and waited with bated breath for a nod or a shake of my head. A nod was greeted with relief and happiness, while a shake with frenzy of 1) Oh, we have to look again and find something she likes and 2) Yaaaay!, we can look at more saris :)

- Then, the beach. I LOVE beaches. I can spend hours on a beach. My ideal vacation would be on a shack on a beach. No, I am yet to do that! This time, I ate everything from raw mango with salt and chilli powder to sundal from young boys (who mentioned that they did not make X amount of money on that day, they'd be beaten up, so we ate sundal more than once!), the sozham, the verkadale bhel, the molaga bajji, the language - naa inge keeren :P. Oh, it felt awesome to be in Madras.

- The 'suddenly' proposed plan to visit the jewellery shops again at 8 PM in the night. Driving to the busiest (probably more busy and crowded than the infamous Dalal Street!) part of the town - T.Nagar, where all the wealth resides. I saw the crowd- rich, poor, middle class, upper class. Nothing mattered. All that mattered was Pothy's, Nalli's, RmKV, Prince Jewellery....I can go on. All that mattered were the colors, the silk, the jewellery, the crowd in EVERY shop. At one point, at Pothy's, at around 9.30 PM (Yes, my mom incorrigibly was picking up daily use(!) saris for me (LOL) because all jewellery shops had closed by the time we reached) we saw that Pothy's and other aforementioned shops were closing, so we saw this sea of humanity all in similar clothes walking out. I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks. Suddenly, I realized that all the employees of these shops were leaving for the day. It seemed like an uprising :) So many, so many people, all in different colors, but looking uniform thanks to their affiliation to different shops. It was just amazing to stand there and watch it all.

- Oh, did I forget to mention that the billboards are a distraction. Sigh, I cannot get that pink Jacquard sari off my mind. Knowing me, that is SHOCKING :), but, well, that is the Madras magic!

Now, its back to Bangalore and then to Hyderabad. I'm going to refrain writing about my Hyderabad trip. Been there, done that, and still feel the same. I am tired of crying, tired of trying to accept the change. So, right now, I have a Madras hangover, and am loving it.