Happy 375th Madras!

My Facebook page has been flooded with news about Madras’ 375^th birthday. The city I proudly call my hometown has changed in countless ways in the 19 years since I left it to live in the West, but in many ways it still evokes the same nostalgia and warmth for me. I come from a family of Madras fanatics, for whom the passion for their city trumps religion or cricket. For them, the hot and humid weather which requires you to have a fan in the shower, the traffic (which is still the best among the major metros, as they kindly point out), the two-party politics, are all just minor glitches more than compensated for by the coffee, the food, the music, The Hindu, the people and the culture that is Madras. When Madras makes the list for anything – quality of life, place to visit, I can be assured my family will make sure I hear about it from them! All this talk about Madras’ place in India, its historical importance made me look back on how the city has shaped me, and in many ways still does. 

The city fed my ever growing hunger for books, music and movies, like no other place I knew.  “The Hindu” remains the only physical newspaper that I have ever read till date. Even when I traveled within India I would seek out the newspaper although I felt that their regional editions were sub par when compared to the Madras edition. My dad and an uncle got me hooked to The Hindu crossword when I entered 8th grade, and I kept at it everyday until my dad's passing so much so that when I recently turned to the online version of The Guardian Quiptic I felt like I had reneged on some kind of a Holy Vow!

Although not widely known, Madras is a book lover's paradise. Long before the fancy malls and the

even fancier book stores established a presence in Madras, my dad roamed the streets of Moore Market looking for rare books. By the time I took to books, there were 3 institutions in whose musty ambiance I felt completely at home - Higginbothams (the oldest bookstore in India), the Connemara Public Library, and Raviraj lending library. The countless hours I spent in these during my formative years laid the foundation for a life long love affair with books. And then there was the annual Book Fair which was an event I lived for! To me the Book Fair was the most important event in the city's cultural calendar and ranked higher than the Music season in my personal calendar. The anxiety with which I used to make lists of the books I wanted to purchase at the fair, and the constant budgetary considerations, the thrill of finding a new stall with a completely unexpected surprise are feelings that I still remember. I don't think I missed a single Book Fair in the '80s and early '90s. 

Preceding the Book Fair season (Dec-Jan) is the annual Music Season (Nov-Dec), which is one of the highlights of the city. These days it looks like a proper commercial activity with round the clock TV coverage, sponsors, advertising and gossips. I don't recollect any of that when I lived in the city. Music season was primarily about the music - an opportunity to see world class artists in some of the best known venues in the city. Coming from a family of ardent Carnatic music enthusiasts, the music season was (and still is) much discussed at our home. Luckily for me, there were very few in the family who enjoyed the visual arts so they would gladly give up their season passes for a cousin and I to go see

Padma Subramaniam or Chitra Vishweshwaran perform. Recently when in Tokyo I had the wonderful opportunity to experience Kabuki. Although I don't speak a word of Japanese, I immensely enjoyed myself and was transported to Kalakshetra in Madras, the seat of arts in the city of arts.

The story of Madras is incomplete without mentioning Kollywood and cut-outs. The music of Kollywood provided the soundtrack for the lives of my generation. If Kollywood is an art form, cut-outs signified pop-art at its very best. Going down Mount Road, craning one's neck through the windows of Pallavan (another Madras fixture) to catch a glimpse of the towering super star Rajnikanth cut-out is akin to catching a glimpse of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, or Golden Marilyn @ MOMA. The city's cut-out artists are one of the most under-appreciated in my opinion. They would make Banksy proud! This was also the city that introduced me to movies from around the world - be it Hollywood, or French Noir.

I haven't even mentioned the diversity of people, the temples, the world famous Marina beach, the oldest engineering college in the country of which I am a proud alumni, the food, our unique dialect of Tamil, or the shopping but it already looks like I am preaching a

Winthropish sermon making out Madras as the "city on the hill". At this point let me acknowledge that not all is rosy - incessant pressure on water (something that has inculcated in me water-wise habits which are absolutely essential to survive in California these days), rising income inequalities, pressure on infrastructure are all experienced by this city like many other megacities around the globe.  The city has also seen its share of environmental tragedies - the Tsunami of 2004 hit the city hard, some political unrest (much smaller compared to other Metros of India).

Despite these issues, the city is still the gateway to the south, a treasure trove of art and culture and one of the fastest growing cities of the world. Maybe I am just living in a time-warp, maybe it is just pure nostalgia which I am told often hits people my age, maybe a Birthday is just meant to evoke happy memories - whatever it maybe, I can't deny that the city has a very special place in my heart.

Thank you Madras, and a very Happy Birthday!