Madras, nalla Madras

The morning of 10th November. 

Everybody from Chennai, or as I like to call it - Madras, has been writing about this beloved city for the past couple of weeks. They've written about how this city has risen beyond anyone's expectations (especially in a national atmosphere where 'intolerance' was the it word), how they felt about not being in their city in its time of need, or how the national media didn't quite give it the attention it deserved all this while. But beyond anything, stories of goodwill have emerged - a good note to end the year with.

I have felt like writing about Madras for a long time. But I always felt I wasn't qualified - not technically, but my experiences have been fairly limited.

When I was born, the city was still called Madras. My maternal grandparents had moved there a couple of months before I was born. Ma went there to deliver me. Apparently, there had been crazy rains around then (which is usual for the time of the year - November rains, returning monsoons). In fact, we didn't even have proper roads in the area my grandparents had moved into. But of course, it wasn't anything like the rains of 2015. It couldn't have been.

Over the years, Madras automatically translated into my summer vacations. A time to meet my sister (cousin sister), so we could build tents, imagine stories, create clubs and projects, and buy books. A magical time that meant family time. This included nightly rituals of laying out bedding on the floor of my grandparents' bedroom. Of latching up windows by standing on window sills before switching on the AC. Or following Tamil TV serials (*cue Chitti title track*). Of completely and thoroughly forgetting about holiday homework. We always made a trip to the beach - mostly, Besant Nagar. Manga was a must. Sometimes getting dinner at Eden after (Corn on Toast). Going to 'chinnan's park' or the Guindy National Park.  Another trip was to Landmark - the big one in Nungambakkam as well as the one in Spencer's Plaza - where Archita and I would first pick all the books we wanted, then shortlist and add up the costs and divide it up and see how much we could cover with our randomly saved up money (a lot of it came from namaskaarams to older folk) and buying it. Spencer's Plaza was probably my first memory of a mall. Westside would add a dress or two to our wardrobe. Catching evening snacks at Grand Sweets (the undivided store). Borrowing Babysitter's Club books from Murugan Lending Library at Gokul's Arcade. Eating mini samosas at Food World. Picking up Latha Chitti from her office. Waiting for tailor day. Going to Sathyam Cinemas to watch a movie. Visiting Sundar Stores, Pondy Bazaar on occasion to ogle at the wondrous things on sale. Of course, visiting all kinds of relatives. Attending family functions, weddings, etc. Once Archita and her family moved to Madras, a ritual that inadvertently became a part of my summer vacations was picking her up from school. Oh also, attending the poojai on the first day of school. And slowly, becoming friends with her classmates. Over the past couple of years, we have been hanging out at Phoenix Mall. It still feels incredibly weird for me to know that there is a huge mall within walking distance of our house. That there are options to eat - restaurants other than Sampoorna Global (which itself has transformed and is still amazing). There are a lot more memories that won't fit here.

I have never lived in Madras. I have only visited. But it has always been home. Technically, it was my first city. I haven't explored enough within Madras or around, as much as I would have loved to. Either I was too young to go alone or didn't have company. Or when I did have company, something or the other came up. Maybe I haven't experienced some quintessential Chennai/Madras experiences. But news like the news we had over the past couple of weeks hit me as hard as it would have hit anyone who has spent their whole life there.

Since October, my mother and I have made a couple of trips back and forth due to a family-related health situation. On my second trip, around Diwali (second week of November), there were horrible rains. Apparently a storm was passing us by. It never stopped raining or stopped being windy. The electricity was out. Water too was fairly rationed. However, it wasn't as big as the rains that eventually hit in December. I'm not going to go into the politics of how authorities should have prepared for something like this. Perhaps they could have. And maybe they did, in part. But like we have been hearing on the news, this scale was unprecedented.

Last week, the TV was on constantly at home. I was unwell and so, was at home. We couldn't think about anything but what was happening in Madras. As I felt helpless sitting here, I tried to see what I could do to help on the internet - which was basically 'sharing' posts and perhaps pointing to information or numbers about a certain place to someone who was looking for it. My family was fortunate - though Velachery is low-lying, our street wasn't badly affected. They had food and water and power back-up (although all rationed). On the first day, my aunt's nurse came despite a lot of flooding on the way to administer the day's injection. The nearby chemist sent someone to deliver something my grandmother needed. Phone networks were patchy but we were mostly in touch. Until suddenly, we weren't from about 9 PM on day 2 till about 2 PM on day 3. We tried not to panic because we reasoned that it was because of network and power issues. However, on that very day, the news was focused on areas that included Velachery. Posts shared on my feed were about people in Velachery mentioning rising water levels. It was a scary time. We finally got word that they managed to move to the hotel nearby. With an old grandmother and an aunt recovering from surgery, we had been worried. So the news about the hotel was reassuring. Archita, with her limited driving experience, rose to the roll of driving the family back and forth! And eventually, to even check on our neighbors. My family was one of the fortunate ones through this ordeal that the city faced. Also, I have a lot of relatives across the city who have also been fortunate to brave this. My heart really goes out to those who have had to leave their homes or have lost loved ones - I cannot begin to imagine what that might feel like.

About the national media, we have all heard about how they ignored covering Madras in the beginning or even before. And this is something I noticed growing up, too. News centers a lot around Delhi. Temperatures dipped to zero in Chandigarh but it wouldn't get reported unless it happened in Delhi. Earthquakes struck, we felt it in Chandigarh but news would first mention Delhi feeling tremors. Of course, granted, neither place was the site of massive destruction and so it probably didn't matter as long as they covered the places that suffered the most. Chennai is supposed to be a metro city and so, it would make sense why it's absence from national reporting is very strange. And this should change. At the same time, there are enough places in India that don't get their share of being represented in 'national' media. It's obviously not just restricted to the media. States in the North-East part of our country get clubbed as one giant amalgamation. They have distinct languages and cultures which we're pretty ignorant about. It is somewhat similar to when the four southern states (or five now) get clubbed as one or anyone south of the Vindhyas is referred to as Madrasi. The other day, when I was on the metro, a girl standing near me was talking to her friend on the phone. She said, "Arey, tune apna Kerala jaane ka plan cancel nahi kiya? Wahin toh itni floods hai, train flight sab bandh." It is probably incorrect not to, but after a point, one doesn't have the patience to respond to such stuff.

Most of all, I am so proud to know that so many people rose to the occasion. I haven't heard the word 'volunteer' so much before. On a lighter note - for the first time in my life, I saw some merit in hash tagging. I never got the point and thought it was fairly restricted to Instagrammers or Twitter users. But during the Chennai rains, it proved fairly helpful. People were looking out for strangers and helping out in any way that they could. It was quite beautiful to see this unfold. While the entire situation was very tragic - for a change, it was interspersed with some news that made you feel better. And I am very happy and proud about this. Of course, with the good came the bad - the potential for pointless rumors to make rounds (most famously, that of the crocodiles). Also, thank you to everyone who contributed in anyway they could, restoring faith in humanity.

The rains in Chennai have brought some topics to the forefront - urban planning and development, preparedness in the face of disasters, climate change, etc. I can only hope that these are taken more seriously now and not forgotten as Chennai starts to build itself back. Also, I hope that people in different parts of India find the same strength that Chennai did this time around, the next time it is needed (although, I would hope nothing like this ever happens again).