Whew! (And a few more !!!)
(wipes sweat off brow)

7 days. Intense days. Days of rushing from home to office to client’s place to office to poetry readings to lecture halls to focus groups. 7 Days of sins and cities and photowalks. 3 Photowalks. 3 in a span of 7 days. 3! Saidapet and Anna Nagar and Triplicane. On hot sweaty mornings and sulky, woolly-sweater-on-summer-day evenings.
Madras Week draws to a close. A city couldn’t have asked for a better birthday party.

www.selectiveamnesia.org

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It is the third day of the Madras Week, a week of celebration, to mark the founding of this wonderful (it really was once!) city.

At the C. P. Art Centre, two different, yet associated events took place – one was the release of the book The Early History of the Madras Region by Dr. K. V. Raman, and the other was the inauguration of an exhibition of V. Narayan Swamy’s private collection of ‘Early Portraits of Madras – Etchings, Engravings and Aquatints’. Both events were clubbed and inaugurated/released as one by Madras Chronicler S. Muthiah. In his speech he regretted the mindless demolition of heritage buildings. He pointed out to the beautiful hall the meeting was being held in – part of the magnificent house of C.P. Rama­swamy – and wondered what might happen to it, were it not for Nanditha Krishna, Hony Director of C.P. Ramaswamy Aiyar Foundation.

www.rajirules.blogspot.com

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Gearing up for Madras Day

The city seems to be celebrating its birthday with style this year. This is one week you definitely won’t be sitting at home watching Tamil soaps. The enthusiasm with which people have embraced this city is simply outstanding and I wonder if any other city in the world has such a culture to boast of.

You can feel the intellectual energy of the youth here, quite different from the partying crowds of Bombay and Bangalore. Here people want to make a difference to society and life, and are slowly doing it. With a little more organisation, we can easily create a revolution if we wanted to. Living in this city for three years, I can say that my life has been entirely transformed by the people I have come across and the experiences that i have had here.

www.bitterscotch.wordpress.com

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An events map

While going through the event listing for the upcoming Madras Week, I realised that even I had no clue as to where half the venues were located. It took me about an hour to finally locate the places using Google and Wikimapia. It’s a shame really that people are made to hunt so much for some simple directions.

I thought it would be really useful if I could make a Google map mashup for anyone interested in these events so that they know what’s happening where.

So check out the Madras Week 2008 events map.

www.bitterscotch.wordpress.com

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Loving a city

I missed the Madras Day celebrations. I usually skip most of the celebrations (including the New Year’s) simply because I cannot stand crowds, but this one would have been fun.

I love the city and am ashamed to say that I know less about it than a day-old tourist here. Which could be the main reason I wanted to attend this one. Unfortunately, I was away from the city and got back offer most of the celebrations, which could also be used as an excuse for an inactive blog, but somehow, I don’t think that would stand scrutiny.

Falling in love with cities is like falling in love with a person (yes, cities can be people too). You first hunt around, staying at different towns and cities and experience the delights and variety you have, then you come to a city that looks completely harmless, something that is definitely not going to change your entire life. You start living in it, not noticing that your heart is beginning to get bound to certain areas, like that park near the office that you love to stroll in, the beaches and the sound of the waves crashing on them, the temples with their ­architecture, sometimes, even the smell and taste of the city air, and you wake up one day to know you have embarked on a one-sided love affair with it.

For cities, like sirens, while casting a spell on you, remain impervious to the adulation poured on them, accepting them as their due. They are the quintessential belles sans merci, for they take and take and all they give you is the joy you have in giving everything to them. So we have the artists who worship them, in the form of photographs, poetry, prose and movies.

And we have the nomads like me who, after moving from one place to the other, finally finds somewhere she can call home.

www.bemusedthoughts.wordpress.com