Chennai Central, 2019.

Chennai Central, 2019.

All my non-Chennai friends categorically dislike this city. They say I only like it because it's my home base. Which I think is true.

I like the beaches not because they're neat and clean but because they remind me of all the Sunday evening beach picnics my family took in my childhood. I can tolerate the scorching sun with a quick ice cream because it reminds me of our freezer being filled with Grape Arun Ice-cream sticks. I love Chennai's monsoon because I'm reminded of all the rain holidays ganamazhai kaaranamaaga (in newsreader's words, because of heavy rainfall), and I don't mind everything shutting early because of the quiet nights and starry landscapes I got to see and make art in. When I see the streets of sowkarpet, I imagine my mother's family's life in the 80s. When I see Saidapet, I imagine my parents creating a new small home filled with hope and love in the 90s. When I see Chennai's CPWD quarters, I think of days in my grandparents' home in the early 00s. When I see Tnagar, I'm reminded of excited yearly summer hauls and diwali shopping.

So I guess it's true, I guess it is a city that lives more on sentiment than on dreams. And as much as that's what makes it a spiritless place for most people, it's also exactly what makes it a spiritful one for me.