Livinghigh
Sunday, March 21, 2004
Livinghigh was here at 6:41 PM /



Lost and forsaken

Dissertation fever has overrun ACJ completely. People don't blog anymore at all, unless they see a blue moon first. The first person you ask about his/her life is bound to spout some brilliant new theory on some profound thesis like alternative sexuality or corporate ethics or the downfalll of the Congress party or biased journalism or the like. Tea or coffee? you ask almost fearfully, only to get an astonished look for a reply. Ergo, I had badam milk instead.

I'm afraid I may be getting too stuck in my newfound Tamil ways - badam milk was just a teaser. I now have saada dosa for breakfast and lunch and ask for an extra bowl of red tomato chutney even before I have touched the portion already there on my banana leaf. I say I hate the white chutney but I shall inevitably finish off whatever they give me. The lassi I now love to hate and drink is distinctly South Indian in flavour, laced with coconut for all I know. My idea of dessert is no longer chocolate ice cream, but a bowl of extra-sweet basundhi. Instead of asking for biscuits at tea time I reach out a hand for crispy and oily vadas. I even know how to pronounce vada right - or at least, am getting there.

My idea of politics now revolves around the cantankerous old Amma whom I have never seen face to face and the yellow shawled Kalaignar whose photo I have clicked while sitting on his car bonnet. Perhaps I owed my life more to him than his inept driver for not running me over that day - I like to think sometimes. My idea of a good newspaper is The Hindu - and I think that speaks for itself. Thankfuly, I still love porn - perhaps as much as I did when I first landed in Chennai.

The rest of India suddenly seems like such a faraway place. Where would I be, if not waiting for hours at saamyar madam bus stop, with a book on dead prime ministers in my hand? There can be no other beach, except the Marina, with its endless expanse of sand that tires you down even before you reach the waves. Gulab jamuns are simply not gulab jamuns if they don't come with the Annapurna brand. I'm a lost man.

Can't you tell?

Dissertation or not, Ashok Nagar Main Road and Chennai are where I live.


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