Madras (Chennai) means different things to different people. For some it is the charming old lady with a string of jasmine in her hair reading Mylapore Times; for others it is a young buxom woman dressed in choicest of colours and glittering in gold, drawing kolam at her doorstep, and for some, like me, it is a little girl in a skirt with a tiny black bindi on her forehead whose name is often longer than the sum total of her age.
Being an ardent admirer of the city, and its many facets, I spent Madras Day (August 22) on its streets, trying to look for the real Madras. Here is what I found.
Madras, as I had expected, turned out to be much more than its people and places. It turned out to be an emotion, easy to experience, hard to explain.
Being an ardent admirer of the city, and its many facets, I spent Madras Day (August 22) on its streets, trying to look for the real Madras. Here is what I found.
Madras, as I had expected, turned out to be much more than its people and places. It turned out to be an emotion, easy to experience, hard to explain.