madras

I have been to this place quite a few times, but never spent time long enough to consume it in its full splendour, all the negative talk notwithstanding.

There's something about the place that arrests someone like me, an on and off kind of a visitor. Is it the familiarity, and the similarity to my place? Is it the rich arresting dose of culture and tradition waiting to be acknowledged? Is it the history locked up in time, outwardly stuck in a time warp with its mothballed ideologies to some waiting to embrace modernity as and when it can? Is the glitz, is it the grandeur... is it the people?

is it a je ne sais quoi?

Is it much much more about a place which has acted as the ground of my thought process subconsciously? Only I could explain that.

If devil-may-care-attitude is anything to go by, I love madras...

If colors, chaos, rhythm in a paradoxically arhythmic place are anything to go by,

I like the madness of madras

Waste Marred Pally

Last evening appa and I happened to be in the good old area; a place in Hyderabad that I would call mine for reasons known to me, that has given me immense joy in a way only it could have. The West to be more precise.

I have had some of the more joyous times there in the late 80s, one period that I have been increasingly craving to get back into. The trees, the curvy bungalows, the Kondareddy Street, the Fresh Chain, the central park, Annapurna Stores, St.Ann's ISC, St.Ann's SSC, St.John's, the Judges' Quarters, Basant Sahney, and the works.

My sisters have studied there. I have studied there partly and the place even extended into Picket, my alma mater for 10 long long years. Can I ever forget the days we have passed by those roads flashing our K.V. Picket straps, flaps, badges and what not with a certain swagger!

I have shared some fabulous moments with Karthik, Javed, Nataraj, Meenakshi, Alok, Susan aunty, Mrs.Bhaskar Rao, Vyjayant, Raghu, Parthasarathy, Chaitanya, Bhanu, and not to forget Gopi. The fact that my cousins, six of them in all, lived there albeit in different pockets, and over different time points made it all the more memorable.

Certain things saddened me. Appa couldnt recognise and acknowledge the very place that our relatives were put up at. I don't blame him. The symbols of modernity, the Homes and the Carriers & BlueStars have replaced the old nuggets. The old pots of joy razed into distant past only to make way for the posher beasts.

Kotwal houses some NIIT franchisee!!! SACRILEGE.

I am not naive and shall reconcile to the fact that I would never be able to get back to those times nor expect them again. That's the best part about it. I know I am supposed to move on and I will.

Karthik's old style two floored beauty, the music college around the corner along with Co-Optex showroom stood silently much akin to a few old men amidst a bunch of rude ball dribbling youngsters trying to move ahead with their heads held high up, seeking dignity and much deserved respect.

That was the only consolation I could carry home.

I hope I was utterly and I mean it, utterly wrong about the title.

I still love West Marredpally.