Madras (Chennai) means different things to different people. For some it is the charming old lady with a string of jasmine in her hair reading Mylapore Times; for others it is a young buxom woman dressed in choicest of colours and glittering in gold, drawing kolam at her doorstep, and for some, like me, it is a little girl in a skirt with a tiny black bindi on her forehead whose name is often longer than the sum total of her age.
Being an ardent admirer of the city, and its many facets, I spent Madras Day (August 22) on its streets, trying to look for the real Madras. Here is what I found.
Madras, as I had expected, turned out to be much more than its people and places. It turned out to be an emotion, easy to experience, hard to explain.