I am one of those who staunchly believe that Chennai predates its official birthday, chosen by some ‘colonial cousins’, by several centuries. I am pretty certain Mylapore and Triplicane, to mention just two areas, were not ‘founded’ by the British nor can Chennai be confined to the walls of Ft St George, which the Brits did build over whatever structure existed earlier. But let me go with the crowd as it happens in city railway stations (not the new metro ones, sadly) when we seamlessly move in and out without aid of our limbs.
I was born in Chennai and raised, up to just around 165 cms, in Chennai. To call this my home would be an understatement. This is my world and my longest absence till date is a fortnight. With two Accounting professional degrees under the belt (forgive the trumpet)) by age 22 in mid-eighties, I did have tempting job offers from beyond. But the idea of leaving family and friends was unthinkable. To be fair, forays to faraway fertile lands was just starting and it was quite a difficult decision then, unlike now. I just took the easy, emotional option.
My father has since passed; my mother can put GPS to shade as she knows the streets and by-lanes of many US cities as she does those of West Mambalam; my sisters are citizens there – no, not WM but US – and so are a host of that generic crowd we call ‘cousins’. Most of my face-to-friends and fraternity are now FB mates. But my brother and I have stayed put as part of the landscape in the familiar avenues and sectors of Ashok Nagar and KK Naagar. I now believe, as much as the characters that have since flown, it is passion for Chennai that has kept me firmly rooted. I am sure, many ‘Pacchai Chennaiites’ share this feeling.
Of course, this is not to undermine those who had to leave. Or maybe, as many often tell me, my nostalgic or even ‘nonsensical’ attachment stems from an ignorance of better lands and missed opportunities. But then life is not 12B movie where you can live out two alternate realities. And I would still choose Chennai. I have drawn my identity, sustenance and stability from this city, as have all hard-core denizens from theirs. I cannot articulate this better than by just saying that this is where I belong.
Sentiments apart there is much to be proud of too. Chennai has deep antiquity and is suffused in history. Suffice to say many old, medieval and modern landmarks and literature bear testimony. From being a thriving port of trade of yore to being the capital of Madras Presidency as also the now truncated TN of independent India, Chennai’s strategic geographic location makes it a vibrant commercial and cultural hub, south of Vindhyas. Chennai’s cosmopolitan character and hospitable milieu has made many ‘aliens’ feel at home, from British then to Biharis now. It exudes an easy going, laid-back, lighter air that makes it friendly and endearing, despite seeming apathetic and indifferent, which are true too. A wry and wholly colloquial humour is evident in all vocal expressions, be they anger, angst or anxiety. Chennai has a quintessential array of local lingos for every pettai that cock a snook at the chauvinism of self-styled Tamil puritans. An auto driver with his chaste cuss words can spook a practised pundit.
While malls and apartments have mushroomed, visitors say Chennai has not changed much. Now, nostalgic nuts like me may see this as something to cheer but we can’t miss the implicit left-handed compliment. It is a lingering grouse that this cherished city of ours with naturally and historically endowed potential has not just missed the bus, but the trains, ships and flights too. Coastal Chennai should have been the gateway to SE Asia on par with Colombo and even Singapore, but entering it from Chenglepet itself is an ordeal. Of connectivity within the city, less said the better.
It is a civic nightmare with an urban infrastructure belying its claim to be a national or global metro. Water plays truant by being scarce in summer and by flooding in monsoon while sewage is always abundant. It is tough to save Chennai on a rainy day. Rising crime, liquor and pollution are clouding whatever is left.
In this Kollywood town, Governance is a matinee show, just screen deep and all noise. Pompous projects are launched on paper and laid to rest in archives. Corrupt politicos, with nary a vision beyond their skin and kin and often invisible have no mind or time for what is also their habitat. Indeed successive Governments are grossly guilty of failing this glorious city and making it a gory specimen.
Any saving grace can come only from citizens, civic activists and community organisations. Madras became Chennai. And despite our concerns about what will become of Chennai, let’s celebrate.
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