An evening in Triplicane High Road:

Entered Triplicane  from Royapettah on a sunday evening. Nostalgia would be plain..It was a bear hug of the street after long grown years.

The same old man pushing the trolley of his handicapped wife, bit older but with the same expectant looks.Don't know whether he earned more change  with changing times.
Crowded green buses slanting towards the left, carrying men women and children to the one inexpensive hangout - towards marina beach with its charms and scary night life.

C,C++,Dictionaries, penthouse letters,Harry potters, Macbeth,Sidney sheldon, dog eared gray's anatomy, some shops with spread books.,3 books for rs 10 then.Don't know how much now.But still spread on the foot path making people take a detour but not in anyway bothered. While now missing is the boy who would warmly welcome, order for  a tea and enquire about my whereabouts till i select books for that quarter.

Differently flavoured Italian softee, now branded with MTR, Samosa, Egg puff, Cutlet, Sangeetha and its fried idli and veg kothu parotta. Absent is the apple flavoured Fanta which quenched an inexhaustible thirst by the end of work day after day.Wonder why a perfectly novel taste was rejected and eliminated from market.

Straying cattle, dingy streets, folded plastic roofs, house hold utensils, suddenly cropping up shelters by the wall, same people , muscular, flabby , tough skinned,same language and profane tamil. Ladies in their mid 30s  with perfectly round kunkumam. But with a new board propped over the wall. 125 th year of service, Kasthurba gandhi hospital. Active production Unit at some silent hours of the night beneath .Not seen are those onyx dustbins- green ,clean, new initially but soon joined their previous counterparts in overflowing filth, evoking a jab from my friends who compared it with my stomach.- unsatiable, eats anything, drinks from anywhere, without fear of spending the next day in wash room instead of labour room.

Old and new mansions, bengali, keralite, community wise buildings, haven for all those coming with dreams ,sometimes shelter for those who lost also. Thinking of people who shared food, bed and books underneath them..at times funny enough to combine classical music and foreign porn books. House where T.Janakiraman stayed,who picturised hitherto unseen kumbakonam government college, babu, yamuna, thangamma but most importantly their vagaries of mind.Sometimes searching for such persons in all those whom we come across.

Same ratna cafe at the end of the street. People coming in the evening not for snacks but for idly covered by sambar. one can see the waiters carry sambar in  large stainless steel cups to refill those plates of two idlies twice.But the only difference today was that I came with my wife, who after  having idli, sambar  and coffee came out and bargained a " mozham" of jasmine for her plait, sat beside me and said " Bava, I am ready, start, what are you staring at ?".HMMM.. this jasmine smell is new for me..while all the other events zoomed past..Like the trail of city traffic rear lights..

photo courtesy -Sriraam kalingarayar.