THE LAND OF RAMIYA AND SAAMBAR

Relationships have a tendency of descending into habits whether one likes it or not and then they become too difficult to break. And my relationship with Chennai was no different. Despite the fact that it was not at all love at first sight. Quite the contrary, in fact. It took me at least six months, excruciating ones, to get used to a place where there are only three seasons: hot, hotter and hottest. We landed in Chennai in the month of June. The very first place I visited was the tailor’s shop to chop off all my sleeves of all my garments. By 10 o’clock we would be jumping up and down with miserable perspiration rolling down our backs. Afternoon siesta became a thing of the past. The floor of the bathroom would be the only place of tolerable temperature.

Besides the temperature, the other aspect of Chennai that makes Chennai what it is: aloof and mysterious, is its language. It is a juxtaposition of sounds, alien, to one not exposed to anything South Indian than the dosa. And the streams of sounds fall faster than the waves that wash the wide, expansive beaches of Chennai. You go to the bank. There they dampen you. You go to the shops. There they bathe you. You go to the bazaar. There they drench you. My husband, I found, was quite impressed. He told me, “These people are so polite. They keep saying ‘sir, sir’ all the time.” I was wont to disillusion him by telling him that they were most probably saying, “seri, seri” which in Tamil means, “okay, okay.” Thus began my attempts at learning a language whose intonation, I found, gave it its personality. I tried to ‘Learn Tamil in Twenty Days’ as the book said on the cover. It sounded like French. So out went the book. Into the kitchen I walked with a slip of paper. “Bring, bring,” I gestured violently to my maid, “Bring, bring, Tamil?” She looked totally baffled. “Yene konduva amma?” I looked around, “Bucket konduva.” She brought the bucket. She actually brought the bucket! I scribbled on paper. Thus through phonetics and dumb charade I learnt enough to save myself in the land of idli and dosa.

Chennai is a place, which is at once religious and modern. They perform so many pujas here and so sincerely. They celebrate Vara Lakshmi, Pongal, Karthike, Navaratri Golu, Ayudh Puja, Vinaya Chathurthi to name a few. The landscape here is dotted with temples of massive proportion and intricate architecture. And you can see and feel the immense pride that the people take in their rich culture and tradition. On the other hand you get to see the largest number of super store chains. People here have been used to the off-the-shelf purchases for day-to-day requirements for a long time now. Vitan and Chintamani were the pioneers. Now there is stiff competition amongst Foodworld, Nilgiris and Palamudir Solai. Then of course there are the endless numbers of lifestyle stores like Landmark, Wills, Shoppers stop, Lifestyle, Globus, Westside, Pantaloons. Trips to plazas like Spencers plaza, Ebony Plaza, Fountain Plaza tend to become a whole day affair.

Besides the well developed shopping experience that Chennai offers, another aspect that commands awe-inspiring respect are the well-managed hospitals. Apollo, MGRamachandran, Sundaram, Vijaya, Madras Medical Mission, Shankar Netralaya are places not just providing health care but quality health care. Every hospital is manned and managed by a security system, drug store and restaurant facilities. And everything is spic and span, very clean and hygienic. Where education is concerned the number of private colleges for higher education is staggering. And the astonishing thing is that every institution has its own mode of transport. You can also feel the winds of change in some schools. A certain number of them are experimenting with activity-based methods of teaching with more emphasis on application than mere textual academics.

A somewhat conservative lifestyle co-exists, without contradictions, with the most erotic silver screen experience. The brilliant choreography and almost ethereal camera angles make Tamil film music enthralling. The rhythm and beat of their music make you feel like dancing. I have become so addicted to Tamil film music, I confess, I cannot go to sleep without my daily dose of Ajit, Vijay, Prabhu Deva, Jyotika, Simran and Ramiya. Music and dance run in the blood of the people here. Young girls at the age of 5 or 6 give flawless stage performances. The youth here are slightly more careful in what they wear than other metros. Having been brought up amongst rich traditions they have a high sense of attachment to their families. At the same time they also take immense pride in being part of the scientific and electronic temper, which is personified in our present president and computer guru Narayanan. The young formula car racer, Karthiken best epitomizes the youth here.

Five years of living in Chennai has made me what I am today- more spiritual, more modern, more aware and more tanned. And now I count the days left for us to leave and move to another place to build another relationship. As I sit and write I can smell the curry leaves in my garden and strong coffee from somewhere. The tantalizing odour of sambar floats from evey household. My son puts on some Hindi music. I ask him to change and put on “malle, malle, malle, malle.” My maid comes in. The fragrance of the flowers tucked in her hair announces her presence. She then goes out to draw a most symmetrical rangoli infront of my doorstep, which is like a ritual for Tamilians. I can hear my son talking fluently in Tamil with her. I soak in the completeness of my relationship with Chennai with an aching sadness that it is slowly coming to an end.