Not Arriving Shortly– Arrived

The poem was written on a sort of impulse. It was triggered by a comment I heard from a friend of mine – quite a culture-vulture himself – about another writer based in Bombay. My friend said that this writer was “so Bombay”, meaning so typically a Bombayite or a Mumbaikar. It got me thinking about how he or others might see me and so this poem got written.

At the core of it, of course, lies my own love for the older version of this metro now called Chennai with all its malls – an older version which is thankfully still alive in certain pockets of the city – in Triplicane or Mylapore or Saidapet, for instance. This older Chennai that is not Chennai at all, but the Madras of my memories.

An interview with writer-academic K.Srilata of IIT, Madras. Read it in the recent issue of Madras Musings. html. pdf.

Very briefly then,I am middle class

and very Madras.

Born and raised in

West Mambalam –

the other side of the railway tracks

where fabled mosquitoes turn

people into elephants.

Went to college in

Khushboo sarees stripped

right off the absurdly voluptuous

mannequins at

Saravana Stores T. Nagar

Chennai 17.