A long stretch of a well-laid out tar road. Well-lit, well-used and mostly abused, taking a beating incessantly, from blaring four-wheelers and speeding 2-wheelers to the ubiquitous “share autos”.
A road, named on one of the oldest religious places in Southern India, and what is today called a “Information Technology Highway”. Dotted with sky-rises and glassy exteriors on the one side and coconut trees with thatched roof huts on the other, lungi-clad fishermen on cycles to professionals in swanky automobiles, a posh shopping mall stands comfortably next to an unassuming wine shop – One of the great social levelers as one of my close friends had once put it – you would find feet clad in a pair of Nike’s as well as cheap worn-out rubber slippers in there asking for the same, sweet taste of sin.
Old Mahabalipuram Road – almost a conundrum in present times and yet comfortably stretched out, accommodating all it’s peccadilloes.
Amidst all this, sharing a small piece of land on this stretch, is a pink colored apartment. Yes, don’t rub your eyes; you read that right – Pink. Well, actually, it has 2 colors, but if you were to stand outside of it and stare at it for sometime, you would get the pinkcture. It is called “Best Homes”.
That was were I spent a time of my life.
A whirlwind. A tornado at times, a pleasant breeze otherwise. Standing on a plateau. Greenery around. Arms flailing, free-falling to the ground. Comfortably numb, and sometimes uncomfortably dumb.
Some day I hope my vocabulary gives me the perfect word for that.
And amidst all this, a motley crew – characters I stumbled upon by chance and some, by choice. Characters I had never expected to come across. And yet, I did. As cliched as it is, it’s strange how life gives you what you need, when you least expect it. Mired in the chaos around, it’s only the dots that we do not see joining themselves for us.
Generous, fun-loving souls, each with a bone that sets them apart. One that is food for another post!
A crumpled 100 rupee note you find in your back pocket when your wallet is empty. The rusted key you find to the lock of an old trunk. A glimpse of sanity you find in a corner of your head. Serendipity.
That was the time I had. The Chennai Times.
