13 Bagirthiammal street, is the house amma grew up in. It is in the heart of Madras, accessible to all places. Many early afternoon coffee sessions have turned extremely interesting listening to paati's stories about the house, and the innumerable people who lived in it at different times. The mamaram, thengai maram, magizham poo maram, malli poo pandhal are all too familar due to my imaginary head. I myself, a total T.Nagar and Madras fan, have passed by that house many a times (now an ugly apartment stands there) imagining how early Madras life would have been with the tram and all that. I kept wondering how so much emotion could be attached to a house. Appa, being a banker we had to shift several houses and one could not afford that kind of emotional attachment towards a place. I am happy I still have association with most of the houses/places/apartment complexes that hold great memories, except with No6 kalyani I guess.
The saidapet srinagar colony house is set in a "posh" locality and the only individual house, unlike the rest of the family living in tiny boxes. Periappa moved into the house when I (along with the extremely intelligent ganesh and sriram) just finished 12th std and was entering college. It perhaps does'nt hold any better memories than coimbatore, pallavaram or madurai, places where me and my cousins have had the best of times. But it is a place where I recognized I share an unbreakable bond with my so called extended family. They are really not that extended. It is a place where we lost both our grandparents, where madhu and vijay got married (not literally) and where we have had many a basketball games, motai madi singing and literature fights. The front room must have a sighed a relief, no more high pitched and off note shruthied people singing "sri meenatchi thaye". I must have been one of the very few creating the off note, for most of my family can sing. Well, it created a sense of belonging, so who cares about off-notes.
"The periavar" decided to move out and I guess we are going to have vague people take over that house. I think I will also be saying stories of its broad front yard, its sit out from where you could watch the kids (us) playing basketball with a coffee at hand, the motai madi which has been tortured the most by vimal trying out every musical instrument possible (listening to him practising them is usually a very difficult task, nevertheless we have been encouraging cousins. He would finally come up with a pehala nasha in his guitar, or play a song with mouth organ and say "guess which one it is?". Even the most raaga gnyanamed people fail at this)and its coffee+ aratai sessions, athai's shopping episodes, futile carrom board coaching for me and its huge kitchen which was always buzzling with activity (That is the best part). So i guess I have some interesting stories for my grand children, too!
PS: I think day by day, am getting too nostalgic in my blog! Will try to work on writing about the present a little more.
